A Fine Line
by Miss Bowtruckle
Summary: Harry and Draco have formed an unexpected alliance, but can their new relationship survive the next 'war? Warning, mild slash and substance abuse ahead.
1. Prologue

Warnings: Rating is for subsequent chapters, H/D slash, substance abuse.

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

A Fine Line

Prologue

The Handshake

_Three years ago…_

Harry walked across the Great Hall toward Ron and Hermione where they sat at one of the long tables among a group of DA members, all of whom were looking tense. "It's all arranged," he told them in a near-whisper, sitting down on the bench between Ron and Neville. "The Order will be in Hogsmeade at exactly six o'clock, and we're meeting Tonks and Mad-Eye there. The last Horcrux has been destroyed. The last remnant of Voldemort's soul is all that's left. The rest of the plan is in their hands." The others nodded somberly and whispered among themselves, occasionally looking up at the Staff Table where Dumbledore and Snape sat with equally serious expressions.

The group relaxed a bit as the serving dishes filled with food for the evening's casual meal, but Harry noticed Ron's eyes narrowing as he looked toward the aisle between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. He turned to look over his shoulder, and saw Draco Malfoy walking toward them with a look on his face Harry had never seen before. Definitely not his trademark sneer. "Potter, a word please?" Ron, Seamus and Neville had all come to their feet, their wands out.

Harry considered briefly, and then nodded. He made shushing gestures to the others, then stood and followed Malfoy out into the Entrance Hall to the corner by the hourglasses imbedded in the wall. He leaned against the Gryffindor hourglass, filled with sparkling rubies, and asked, "So, what is this about, Malfoy?" He crossed his arms in front of him and looked inquiringly at Draco.

"Look, Potter, I know we've never gotten along, but I know what your group is about tonight, and I can help."

Harry snorted. "Why should I believe _you_ of all people?"

Malfoy sighed and leaned against the Slytherin hourglass, his blond hair silhouetted against the emeralds it contained. "Look. I know things. My father was involved in things. Things that I don't believe in, but I have no choice but to behave as if I do, because of what he believes, you see? I know what The Dark Lord has planned; how he is going to trap your people in the High Street. I can't do what they want me to do tonight. I won't do it. I just hope that my godfather won't suffer the consequences." His voice quavered slightly, and he put his hands to the sleeves of his robe, pushing them up to reveal pale skin on both forearms. "Potter…I haven't taken the mark. I don't believe in what they are doing. I believe in you." He took a deep breath, and extended his right hand slowly. "Please, Po…Harry. Let me help."

Harry looked at him closely with narrowed eyes. He _seemed_ sincere, but Malfoy had proven to be rather tricky and devious during the time Harry had known him, and when had he ever offered to help with anything? He was opening his mouth to tell Malfoy to go fuck himself, when he saw a glint of something unexpected in Malfoy's eyes. His head screamed _NO_ but his heart urged him to move, and he put out his hand and clasped Malfoy's. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said, softly, "but I think you're telling me the truth."

.&.

_Six Months Later…_

Harry reached up and got a grip on the triangle of metal hanging over his hospital bed and attempted to pull himself upright with it, moving his hips in an effort to rearrange his left leg which was immobilized in a bulky brace. "Damn!" he spat, as the covers shifted and he ended up exactly where he had started. He let go of the trapeze with an annoyed flip of his wrist, sending it swinging. He looked up at the sound from the doorway, and saw Hermione and Draco in the doorway, smiling at him. "Think this is amusing, do you?"

"Hilarious," said Hermione, dryly. "We're here to try to finalize these plans before we lose our deposits on everything, or you two change your minds." She and Draco approached the bed and she opened a book of formal wear in Harry's lap, gesturing to several pages with folded corners. "See what you think. There are also some pictures of cakes and menus for catering. You have to make the final choices today."

Draco's hand appeared in his, and squeezed. Harry chewed his thumbnail, a fine line creasing his forehead as he looked at dress robes. "I like the black robes for Draco, with his coloring, but I think I like the emerald ones for me. They would have looked good on Ron, too." He looked at the expression on Hermione's face, and immediately said, "Oh, Hermione…oh, I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded, biting her lips, and said, "Yes, they would have looked lovely on him. And you two will be dashing as well. I'll get them ordered right away, so we can schedule the alterations." She scooped up the book and left the room, her hand over her mouth.

Draco moved the wheeled table from in front of Harry, and sat down on the bed beside him. "You shouldn't have said that, Harry. It's still too soon." He sighed, and rubbed his forehead.

"I know," replied Harry, looking away. "It just slipped out. I can't believe he's gone. I didn't mean to hurt her… I just can't believe I'll never see him again." He leaned into Draco's arms, and tiredly allowed himself be held. Harry still could not believe that Ron, his best friend in the world, was dead.

Draco had indeed been telling the truth six months ago when he had revealed the details of Voldemort's plan to ambush the Order of the Phoenix, and with his information they had been able to plan a counter attack that the Death Eaters had not been expecting. Draco had stood behind Harry as he had cast the spell that had defeated Voldemort, and had caught him as the Death Eater's collective attack had dropped him to the ground. Other Death Eaters there had killed Ron and Neville, as well as Luna Lovegood. No one had been able to find out what spells they had used on Harry for several days, and he had remained in a protective sleep induced by potions for over two weeks until they had deemed him sufficiently recovered.

Draco had been devastated by Harry's injuries; he had been so determined to protect him and prove himself an ally that he had held a vigil of sorts at Harry's bedside, leaving only for the bathroom, even taking meals in Harry's room. He proved his newfound dedication to Hermione as well during the days that followed, and had even provided physical support during Ron's funeral, when it seemed her legs would simply not hold her up.

Harry had eventually awakened, and that left the three of them with the difficult task of coming to terms with their complex feelings. Harry had trouble dealing with Hermione being so friendly with Draco, and Hermione had trouble with Harry having trouble with it. Harry tried desperately to accept the fact that Ron was gone, but he had not seen Ron's body, or the funeral, and in his mind he was able to deny this terrible thing. Draco finally confessed to Hermione with some embarrassment that he had asked Colin to take a few pictures during the funeral, and instead of hexing him, as he had anticipated, she hugged him fiercely and they both had sat with Harry as he looked at them. They were not morbid at all, she decided, but they left no doubt in Harry's mind that Ron was dead. There was the evidence in not-living, not-moving color, and Harry had cried bitterly as the truth finally sunk in. Draco had held him as he had sobbed until he had fallen asleep, completely exhausted.

Hermione recognized at that point that there was something special between him and Draco, whether they wanted to admit it or not, and had aggressively nurtured it. So aggressively, in fact, that Harry and Draco were planning a ceremony of commitment, which was to be held as soon as Harry was up and walking again. Lucius Malfoy had not been pleased at the idea of his son pursuing a relationship with The Boy Who Lived Much Too Long, and had been quick to let Draco know it, but Draco had told his father in no uncertain terms that he was a wizard of age, and as such, followed his father's rules no more. "I mean you no disrespect, Father, but my relationship with Harry is something that is not negotiable." Harry had been determined to legally take Draco's name, even though they would not be legally married. Draco, although secretly pleased to no end, had refused to let him do it, insisting that he keep Potter, in honor of his parents and the sacrifice they had made for their son.

They had decided, each for his or her own reasons, not to return to Hogwarts for seventh year, and they began the process of building their new lives. Draco sought a position with the Ministry. Hermione began studies as an assistant mediwitch having taken her N.E.W.T.'s early, which surprised no one. Harry went to rehab. The therapy was agonizing at times, but he stuck through months of it, screaming, grunting, swearing, sweating, and crying. With Hermione and Draco there, he took his first painful steps on crutches, biting his lower lip bloody, with his therapist, Steve, cheering and crying for him. As he dropped, exhausted, into the wheelchair he looked at Steve's elated face and thought, _I want to do that. I want to feel glad for someone else's accomplishments and know that I helped._

.&.

_Two years ago…_

Harry stood in the kitchen and leaned tiredly on his crutches, looking out the window overlooking the little garden. He had wandered through the house in silence and had returned to this room, and the view. The flowerbeds were a riot of color, with tomatoes, strawberries, and runner beans intermingled with the bright flowers. He smiled at the thought of picking his own lunch from that adorable kitchen garden. _I love this house… _He moved over to the door overlooking the large back porch, and supported himself on the frame, tugging to adjust the stiff brace that still supported his left knee.

Draco came into the kitchen shaking his head. "I've looked all around this house, Harry, and I just don't think this is the place for us." Harry looked up, surprised, but let him continue. "The living room is much too small, the master bedroom is upstairs…you aren't ready for stairs everyday, and there's only room in the driveway for one car. It just won't do. I'm going out to tell the realtor that we're going to keep looking."

"Draco, are you mad? The loft bedroom is lovely, plenty of room, with our own bath. I can do stairs pretty well now," he said, gesturing to his crutches, "and the brace comes off for good in a month. I can sleep downstairs temporarily if I need to. There's a nice sized spare room. The kitchen is perfect, the strawberries are ripening in the flowerbed, the living room and the study can be combined by knocking out this wall," he said, gesturing at the offending wall, "and I love it." He looked at Draco pleadingly. "Please? I really do, it just feels like home."

Draco sighed. "I guess there's no point in trying to explain that I work in London, you will be studying in London, we should _live_ in London? I don't want to live in the arse-end of nowhere." Harry snorted. "And, there's nothing near here. No cinema, no restaurants, no pub…"

"Draco, we don't go to pubs. There are apparition points close to the university, so traveling to classes won't be a problem. I don't start school for another few months anyway." He looked curiously at Draco. "Don't you love the quiet here?" He pushed open the back door and listened to the silence. "It will be private and perfect."

Draco turned and looked out the window to the garden, shaking his head. "It's too remote. What if you need a healer? What if you have a problem at home and I'm in London? I don't want to be that far away from you, Harry."

Harry moved forward and slid his arms around Draco, pressing his lips to Draco's neck. "Please, just look around again. I love this house." He stepped back to lean on the doorframe again and began ticking off points on his fingers as Draco turned to face him, shaking his head. "It's perfect. Look…one…there are apparition points in the hospital, two…you hate the cinema, three…we really do only have the one car and we almost never drive it, four…_mobile phone_, and five…you _apparate_ to the ministry to work. It's not nowhere, for heaven's sake, it's Wothingham upon Sea, and if that doesn't sound like a Malfoy place to live, I don't know what does. I'm doing much better now that my therapy is finished, I'm hardly taking the pain medications, and I'm walking better every day; I'm not fast but I'm not _frail_, Draco. Besides, Hermione's house is only a mile or so across town, Severus is available in case of an emergency, and it's just lovely here." He put his forehead to Draco's, and looked into Draco's gray eyes with his endless green ones, blinking his dark lashes slowly. "Please? For me?"

Draco growled, shook his head, and went resignedly outside to tell the realtor that _of course, they would take the house._

.&.


	2. Chapter 1

Warnings: Rating is for subsequent chapters, H/D slash, substance abuse. 

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

Chapter One

_Present Day…_

"Too early," groaned Harry as he rolled over and silenced the alarm clock. _Ten o'clock, time for another night shift_. He stretched lazily back across the bed, then stopped, startled, when his arm did not meet anything warm, and he realized he was alone. He sat up in the four-poster and looked at the other side, where the pillows were still smooth, the coverlet tucked neatly under them. He was normally a restless sleeper, so it was a surprise that the bed was neat, but even more of a surprise that it was empty.

He swung his feet out of the bed and sat on the edge for a moment, looking at the picture on his bedside table. It had been taken at the commitment ceremony he and Draco had shared over two years ago. Draco was in black dress robes, and Harry in emerald green; they were facing the camera with Draco standing behind Harry, his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. They looked relaxed and in love…no one could know that the pose was entirely designed so that Draco could balance Harry on his 'good foot' because Harry absolutely refused for his crutches to be in the photo. The pair in the image smiled at him, and then looked sideways at each other.

He got up, smiling and rubbing his eyes, and headed to the adjoining bathroom. Toilet, wash hands, brush teeth; his routine was uncomplicated and free of wasted energy, _unlike Draco's_, he thought. He undressed and got into the shower, rinsing his body quickly. He wet his hair and smoothed on some of Draco's prissy conditioner to try to tame it. Getting out and wrapping himself in a towel, he looked critically at his reflection in the mirror as he pulled the comb through his hair.

"Only married wizards grow their hair, dear," the mirror trilled, as it did every morning. "You aren't married, you know…" He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at it. "Well!" it said, with a sniff.

_I'm glad I let my hair grow_, he thought; its shoulder length had tamed its unruliness to some degree. _At least it doesn't stick up anymore…_ His eyes looked tired, though, with dark smudges underneath. His forehead had that worry-crease down the center. Night shift was not agreeing with him, but it was only for a few more nights. He rubbed his face tiredly, contemplated shaving, but decided to skip it and just cast a quick glamour to lighten the smudges. "I guess he had to work late again," he said to no one in particular, ignoring the mirror's _hmmph_ sound as he applied the fine line of dark gray eyeliner along his bottom lashes._ A little kohl just there, much better_. There had not been a phone call; he was irritated but not surprised as he was scheduled to work a night shift and Draco would not have wanted to wake him.

He went to the wardrobe, pulled out a clean uniform and green healer's robes, and closed the door. The aluminum crutches by the wardrobe door gleamed in the lamplight. He had insisted to Draco that they stay in plain sight, to remind him of how far he had progressed, and he loved to be able to _leave them there._ He dressed quickly for work and headed downstairs, tying back his dark hair as he went. He gathered his keys and mobile into his jacket pockets, and left the house, setting the protective wards with a flick of his wand.

.&.

Harry apparated directly into the staff lounge at St. Mungo's where he had worked for nearly two years as an assistant healer. He had sustained multiple injuries during Voldemort's defeat, and they had made it necessary for him to spend nearly two months in hospital, two weeks of which he had been unconscious. He had undergone Charmed Healing, as well as intensive (and usually painful) physical therapies on his legs, particularly his left knee, which had been shattered, for nearly another year. He had decided after his recovery that he wanted to give back something positive, and this had led him to disregard N.E.W.T.'s and go for training at a Muggle college as a therapist, convincing the Healers at St. Mungo's that there were benefits to therapy, and he was proof. He usually worked the daytime rotation but another therapist was on holiday, so he had volunteered to fill in; his primary function at night was passive exercises with patients who were too ill to participate themselves. He checked his reflection in his locker mirror as he hung up his jacket, and rubbed at the worry-crease again. He clipped the name badge, "H. Potter, Physical Therapist" to his scrub top and headed for the desk.

"Hi Parvati, how's Ms. Jenkins?"

Parvati Patil looked up from her charting and gave Harry a smile. "Hi, Harry. She's doing better tonight, she has been resting quietly and her signs are all good." She handed Harry the medical chart. "How's Draco?"

"He wasn't home yet when I got up, I guess he's working late. He might call when he gets in, though. Will you find me if he does?"

"Sure," she replied, "I'll track you down." She stood up to gather her paperwork, and gave him a grin. "Going for the George Michael look again?" she teased, rubbing his shadowy cheek.

He laughed. "Yeah, but there's a fine line between enthusiasm and talent, so think carefully first if you decide to ask me to sing."

Still chuckling, he proceeded down the dimly lit hall to Ms. Jenkins' room. Janie, one of the nursing assistants, was just coming out in a swish of yellow healer's robes. "She's had a bit of a wash, and is all ready for you, Mr. Potter." She smiled shyly. He nodded his thanks and went into the room.

Lani was asleep, as usual, her reddish-brown hair feathered softly over her pillow. _Janie must have brushed it_, he thought. Her face showed slight pallor under her tan and there were tired looking smudges around her eyes, although her expression was serene. Harry guessed that she was about his age, twenty or so, but had never bothered to check. She had been in St. Mungo's nearly two weeks since her family had found her in their home, apparently the victim of a domestic invasion. She had been given potions for a few days to keep her in a 'protective sleep' while they healed her more significant injuries, but now, even though the potions had been stopped, she had not awakened.

He glanced at the monitor and saw that her vitals were within normal limits, and he drew the curtain around her bed. "Ready for your workout, Lani?" He lifted the blanket from her left leg, making sure to keep the rest of her body covered and warm. He slipped his left hand under her foot, and the right under her knee, and began the passive exercises that were designed to keep her muscles flexible and her joints moveable. Who knew, someday she might wake. _Someone did this for me_, he thought, always amazed. He continued with the soothing, repetitive motions, exercising her legs in turn, and then moving to her arms. As he worked, stretching her muscles, he talked to her, about anything and nothing. He wondered if she would remember his voice, if she ever woke up. He remembered vague sounds and voices from the time he had been unconscious, but had never had the same caregivers for any length of time, so no one sounded familiar to him when he finally came around. He hoped that if, _no, make that when,_ Lani woke, she might remember his voice, find him familiar afterwards, and be comforted by that. He finished her routine and arranged the covers on her bed, looking at her face searchingly for any sign of response or change. _Someday… _"Good night, Lani," he said, softly, and turned off the light.

The rest of the shift was smooth, quiet, and very routine. He had five other patients to care for, and their programs were smoothly accomplished as well. He sat down at the desk to chart the care he had given, and smiled as a mug of tea appeared at his elbow, along with a vial of headache potion. Parvati's small hand touched his shoulder. "You look like hell, Harry. Why don't you just go home? It's nearly five, it's Friday night, or is that Saturday morning?" She yawned, and tugged his ponytail playfully. "Anyway, you're finished with your patients. Seamus is here, and he can help me if I need him. Drink your tea, and make your notes, and then just go, home, okay?"

He smiled at her appreciatively and took a drink of the tea. It was strong and good. He nodded. "Okay, I think I'll do that, thanks. See you Monday."

.&.

Harry drew his wand to remove the wards from the front door and stepped into the kitchen, dropping his things on the dresser, and hanging his jacket on a chair. He drew the milk out of the refrigerator without turning on a light, and drank straight from the bottle. _Draco hates when I do that_. He sighed tiredly as he turned around, and jumped as he caught sight of Draco, his head pillowed on his arms at the kitchen table, asleep. _Nearly gave me a heart failure._ Files, briefs, quills, laptop, a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, and a beer were scattered on the table around him. _A beer?_ _Obviously he had a tough day_, Harry thought, putting the milk away. He stepped over and placed his hands on Draco's shoulders, rubbing them softly. He leaned down and kissed the back of his neck, and whispered, "Come on, love. Let me take you upstairs."

Draco sighed, and opened his eyes. He looked up at Harry and smiled. "Hi, Harry. Mmmm…I guess I fell asleep, huh?" He gestured at the mess on the table, and shook his head. He stood and stretched, turning into Harry's arms, and hugged him. "I'm sorry I didn't call you at work. I just got in so late, and started on this crap. Lovely eyes, though," he murmured, kissing Harry tiredly. He gestured at the table, "Well you see what happened." He put a hand to his hair and pulled out the tie that held it. "I just can't seem to catch up. Sorry."

"It's okay, I'm just glad you're home," Harry replied softly, "Come on up to bed. I'll take care of this later in the morning." Draco nodded, followed Harry up the stairs.

Harry stepped out of the shower a few minutes later and wrapped himself in his worn terry bathrobe. _Draco hates this bathrobe_, he thought, smiling, _but it's so cozy_. He walked out of the bathroom, still toweling his hair, and saw Draco, lying on top of the covers, fully dressed, fast asleep. _He looks exhausted,_ he thought, _I can't remember when he's had such dark circles under his eyes_. "Draco, aren't you going to get undressed?" He did not move. Harry smiled as he slipped Draco's shoes off, then lifted a quilt from the foot of the bed and spread it over him. He slipped into the bed next to him, and smiled. _He always_ _sleeps with his mouth open_, he thought. He snuggled up to Draco's side, put his arm around his waist, and sleep took him as well.

.&.

Harry awoke the next morning, alone again in the cold bed. He heard the phone ring, a few angry words in Draco's clipped voice, and then the slam of the receiver. He rubbed his forehead; the stubborn lingering headache remained. He went to the bathroom for another headache potion, then pulled his comfy bathrobe over his green loungers and padded downstairs.

"Babe?" He went over to the table, where Draco was shifting anxiously through his papers and files. "Can I help you find something?" Draco shook his head, and continued to sort the pages, his hands shaking slightly. "Let me make you some tea, or a coffee?"

"I don't need tea, I need that file!" he nearly shouted, and threw the papers into his leather briefcase with a muttered oath. He swept his fingers through his unusually messy hair, and rubbed his nose absently. "I just can't figure out where I would have put it. It's information about one of Father's associates, and it's one of the most important cases we've got right now. He's being accused of things that he didn't have any involvement in, and I know he's innocent. I can't let him down." Draco was working in the Ministry of Magic along with Dean Thomas, as a research clerk. He hoped to go into an investigational business for himself, but that was still a very long way away. "I guess I'm just going to have to go into the Ministry today. I know the information is in my files there, and I'll have to re-create it somehow. I can't let Father down." He sat down at the table and put his head in his hands. Harry noticed that his hands were shaking a bit more now, and stepped closer and touched Draco's shoulder tentatively.

"Draco, you're going to make yourself sick," he said, softly. "Please…just stay home today. You've been out late every evening this week. Surely the brief will turn up, or you can re-do it on Monday. We were going to Hermione's today for lunch, and…well…I'm worried about you, is all," he finished lamely.

Draco smiled, and reached out to touch Harry's cheek, and rubbed it softly. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm really fine. It's just a busy time at work, and with Father being one of the clients, I don't dare screw this up. You understand, right?" Harry nodded uncertainly. "Tell Hermione I'm really sorry." He leaned in to kiss Harry softly, and murmured, "I love you," against his lips. He stood up and retrieved his briefcase and keys. "Don't worry, I'll be home by dinner." He stepped out the door and was gone.

.&.

Harry spent the next few hours around the house, tidying up the kitchen from Draco's work marathon the night before, and then going out in the garden to pull weeds from the flowerbed. He had kept the prior owner's vegetable patch, the edible plants intermingled with the flowers; it kept the bed from looking shaggy as the vegetables went to seed. He picked enough strawberries to fill a small basket, and took them inside to take to Hermione. He stepped out of the front door a few minutes later and headed for Hermione's house for lunch. Draco had not wanted to live in _the arse-end of nowhere_, but Harry had begged for the little country suburb, using their desire for quiet and privacy as the final wedge in his argument. It was close enough to Hermione's place for frequent visits, but not too close, they had not wanted to get under each other's skin. He considered apparating to Hermione's doorstep, and then the breeze teased his face, lifted his hair, and he decided to walk.

He had grown to love their little suburb, it was cozy and intimate when they wanted it to be, but afforded them more privacy in their relationship than a large city like London. The had kept only the closest of their separate circles of friends, Hermione and Seamus, for the most part, with occasional casual visits from Blaise and Pansy who had married a few months ago. They considered themselves homebodies, and stayed home or went to the homes of the few close friends rather than going out on the town. Harry had encouraged Draco accept a position in the Ministry of Magic with Dean. He was always so interested in the law and could argue with anyone about almost anything, so would surely make a great debater. He got along well with Scrimgeour now, as well, and had much to offer the Ministry in terms of knowledge and loyalty. Harry had traveled to a local Muggle college for his classes in Physical Therapy, and Draco had supported this as well. Neither of them truly needed to work for income, as their combined inheritance and Harry's share in the Weasley twins' business had provided a sizeable nest egg, but they both admitted they would be bored out of their minds at home and had sought work as something productive to do.

His mind continued to wander as he walked and he arrived at Hermione's house sooner than he had expected, and he was startled from his daydream as he walked directly into the picket fence surrounding it. He laughed at himself, then went through to the porch and knocked on the door.

"Harry! I'm so glad you could come today. I've missed you this week," said Hermione, as she ushered him inside. She had obviously been painting something; she was wearing a faded men's shirt as a smock, and had a dab of blue on her nose. Her hair hung over her shoulder in a thick braid. "I've been painting my downstairs spare room to be a study, but I think I should have just _spelled_ it blue," she said, laughing.

He nodded, grinning, handing her the basket of berries. Hermione did love to try to do things the Muggle way. "You got your nose nicely though."

She laughed and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Just let me wash up a bit and get rid of this smock." She went into the kitchen and slipped out of the shirt, laying it inside out on the back of a chair. "Draco not coming?" she asked, taking in the expression on his face, and Harry shook his head. She scrubbed her hands in the sink and wiped the paint off her nose, and then looked at him, concerned. "You look tired, love, even with the glamour."

He looked at her, surprised. He had been so careful to cast it right, and thought he had done okay. "It shows?"

She nodded, then said teasingly, "But your eyes are beautiful, as usual." Her face became somber again. "_Are_ you okay, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "Something is going on with Draco," he confessed. He sat down at the kitchen table, and she came over with the teapot. "He came home really late last night and didn't call me at work like he usually does. I didn't think much of it at the time, but when I got home he was asleep at the table. He had papers and stuff all over, a BEER, for heaven's sake. Draco never drinks beer. I didn't even know we had any in the house." He pushed his fingers through his untidy hair, and took the cup of tea Hermione handed him, blowing into it. He looked up at her, and she laid her hand on his hair, comfortingly. He bent his head and said softly, "He went to work today, and he _never_ works Saturdays. I miss him so, he's been so distant…we haven't made love in weeks." He blushed slightly as he said this, and felt his eyes prickle; he rubbed at them fiercely.

Hermione frowned, and turned toward the cupboard, so as not to embarrass him. "I wonder what he has going on," Hermione mused aloud, as she bustled about the kitchen, bringing out sandwiches and rinsing the strawberries. "He does love to spend his weekends with you, Harry. He's very jealous of that time with you." She handed him a plate with a sandwich and berries. "He doesn't often let things come up like that."

"He said it was some research at the Ministry involving one of his father's associates," replied Harry, uncertainly. "I know that would stress him, he hasn't had the best relationship with Lucius since leaving school and bunking up with me. Lucius told him he wouldn't have his son shagging The Golden Poof." He smiled ruefully at her, and took a bite of chicken salad.

"Well that's just ridiculous, _The Golden Poof_ indeed. But that's probably the reason he's upset," replied Hermione, firmly, sitting down next to him with her plate. "He doesn't want to take a chance of messing up his father's case, especially since he is in a relationship with you, because Lucius would certainly say it was because of you." She took his hand in her small ones. "He loves you, Harry. He's stressed and he's not used to it. He's so used to being in control." She smiled at him. "Just take care of him, love him, and be supportive. This case can't last forever, and he'll be back to rights again."

"I hope so…"


	3. Chapter 2

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse (later chaps)

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them

Chapter Two

Later that evening Harry sat alone in the dark kitchen, staring blearily at his empty wine glass, watching the faint candlelight prism through the cuts in the crystal. He had emptied it long before it had gotten dark outside, long before the candles had burned low. He had emptied it several times, as a matter of fact. He picked up the nearly empty bottle and glass, took them to the counter, and looked at the baking dish on the stove. He had made Draco's favorite lemon and herb fish, but it no longer looked edible, it looked dried up and lonely. _Like me_, he mused, then laughed at himself for sounding so ridiculous. He picked at the edge of a piece with a fork, and gave it up as a loss. Draco had not come home from work yet, and had not called, _again_. _Oh, well_, he thought, _he can fix a sandwich_.

Harry briefly considered the idea of taking a sobering potion and getting ready for work, and then rejected it. Going into the living room, he used the Floo and told Parvati that he had a terrible headache, _only a small fib_, he thought, and that he was going to bed. He went back to the kitchen and picked up the rest of the bottle of wine. He considered the glass, then took a drink directly from the bottle, and stumbling a little, carried it upstairs to finish while he undressed for bed.

.&.

"Ouch!" Harry was awakened by a sharp pain in the side of his head. He tried to lift it to look around the room, and found he was pinned to the pillow by his hair. He could see nothing in the darkness, but felt a hand at the back of his neck, and reached back to grab the wrist attached to it. He deftly flipped the man off of him onto the floor with a loud _thump_. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and turned it onto the figure on the floor, and felt his jaw drop. Draco lay flat on his back on the hooked rug, looking astonished. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry shouted, lowering his wand. "I could have really hurt you!" He picked up his glasses and put them on, his hands shaking as he laid his wand aside.

"I just got home," Draco explained, getting to his feet as Harry sat down on the bed, " and I thought it would be a nice way to wake you, you looked so delicious asleep." He rubbed his wrist ruefully. "I guess I should have called your name or something…sorry about your hair."

"I guess you should have," Harry snapped. "You scared the hell out of me." He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then glared at Draco, who was still holding his wrist, looking at Harry uncertainly. "Where were you?" Harry asked. "I made your favorite, you promised me you would be home." He turned his head away from Draco, looking at the quilt crumpled on the bed. He picked absently at a stray thread, feeling suddenly tired. "We haven't had dinner together in ages." He hated himself for sounding so needy. The bed sank down beside him as Draco sat and took his hand. He felt a kiss land on his shoulder, and then his neck. He turned into Draco's embrace, and buried his face in Draco's chest. "I've just missed you so. I haven't seen you in forever, it seems. When you are home, you're always thinking about work." He felt Draco's lips in his hair, his fingers in the dark strands.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into Harry's hair, and inhaled sharply. "I've missed you, too." He lifted Harry's face to kiss him, and teased his mouth open, hands roving over his chest and pushing him down on the bed, surprisingly insistent. Harry moaned softly into the kiss, and Draco responded with crushing pressure, rolling onto him and moving urgently against him. Almost before he knew it, his boxers were off, and they were moving together, Draco pulling him urgently over…pushing him down…. Harry moaned with mingled pain and pleasure as Draco moved between his legs, pressing against him insistently.

"Wait…" Harry moaned, "slower…_please_…."

Draco swore, and spat onto his fingers, then moved back to Harry roughly, kissing him, leaving love bites down his neck and chest, pulling his leg up higher. His erection nudged at Harry's entrance, and suddenly Draco was thrusting, hard, fast…too fast. Harry cried out softly and bit his lower lip, tasting blood, catching his hand in Draco's hair. Draco moved urgently, climaxed quickly, and came to rest on Harry's chest, breathing heavily. "You _are_ delicious," he whispered, nibbling at Harry's neck, sucking gently on his earlobe. He rolled over off Harry, who hissed sharply at the burning sensation, and pulled him close for a kiss. "I love you," Draco murmured into his jaw line as he moved to rest by Harry, placing his arms around him snugly.

Harry lay silent, stunned, as Draco drifted quickly to sleep, snoring softly, his arms wrapped possessively around him. _What the hell was that_? he thought, as he gingerly slid out of Draco's embrace and got up slowly from the bed. Wincing at the stinging pain as he moved, he walked slowly to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the water was warm he stepped in and allowed the water to run over his face and down his sore body. _Draco has never been like this in bed_, he thought. _He has never been rough, or hurtful. What is going on?_ Harry stood for a long time in the shower, watching pink tinged water swirl down the drain, then turned it to cold, shivering in the icy spray for a moment before stepping out.

.&.

Harry wrapped himself in his comforting old bathrobe and his oldest, softest loungers, and went back into the bedroom, looking warily at the figure on the bed. Draco was definitely asleep; in fact he did not seem to have moved at all while Harry was in the shower. His hand lay over his eyes, and his pale hair was spread over the pillow. He sneezed once in his sleep, and turned over to his side, facing the wall. _What on earth is going on with you? _

Harry sighed as he saw Draco's designer jacket lying in a heap, and moved to pick it up from the floor. He shook it out and slipped his hand into the pocket, placing Draco's keys on the bedside table. He slid his hand into the other pocket and hissed with pain. He pulled his hand out and inspected his forefinger, which now had a fine line of bright red blood at the tip. He sucked at it briefly as took the jacket over to the bed and tipped the pocket out, allowing the contents to fall onto the bed. His forehead creased with confusion at the sight of the pink plastic pocket mirror, _pink?_ and the small piece of broken glass. _What are you doing with something like this, Draco?_ Draco was gay, yes, and was indeed vain, but check his appearance with a mirror like this? He dropped the broken mirror and the sliver of glass in Draco's wastebasket, and hung the jacket in the wardrobe. He covered Draco with the bedspread, and slid onto his side of the bed, on top of the covers, pulling up the quilt. When sleep came, it was filled with strangely blurred images of Draco.

.&.

Harry awoke early the next morning, and showered quietly. He looked at his loungers, smeared with dried blood, and dropped them into the wastebasket in the bathroom with a disgusted expression. _Never thought I'd have to do that,_ he mused, dressing silently. He headed down into the kitchen, opened the window for the owl delivering the Daily Prophet, and pushed a knut into its leather pouch. He sat down with a mug of tea, grimacing with discomfort at sitting, and read the entire paper. Every single word. He even read the ads for Madame Mulkin's Robes for All Occasions, where there was a sale on dress robes for children, and for Flourish and Blotts where Newt Scamander's books were ½ off. The words swam and blurred in his vision; he became distracted and stared into space for a few moments, but he resumed his relentless reading. He needed the words to drown out the thoughts that continued to scream inside his head. _What on earth happened last night? Who was that in my bed?_ He finally finished the last page, and went to the sink to rinse his cup. He watched the dregs of the tea swirl down the drain and, gripping the side of the basin with both hands, began to cry.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there before he felt hands at his waist turning him around, and Draco pulling him into an embrace. He closed his eyes; he hadn't heard the footsteps over the water running and didn't want Draco to have the satisfaction of seeing him in tears.

"Harry," he said, "are you okay?" His face wore a confused expression, and he touched Harry's cheek gently. "What is it, love?" Harry's hands remained at his sides, not resisting Draco's touch, but not returning it, either.

He leaned back after a moment and, taking a deep breath, looked into Draco's face. "Who were you last night?"

"I…what do you mean?" Draco's eyes widened slightly.

"I don't even know who you were last night," Harry said, wearily. "First you scared me to death; I nearly cursed you before I even knew it was you." He looked down at the floor and whispered, "Then you fucked me like a stranger. All the time we've been together, you have never done that to me." Harry pulled away and turned back to the sink to turn off the tap. "You never hurt me before." He wiped his eyes, furious at himself for continuing to cry.

"I'm sorry, Harry. So, _so_ sorry… I didn't mean to hurt you last night, either." Draco had dropped his hands to his sides as well. He pushed back his sleep-messy hair, and rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't know what was wrong with me. I just saw you there, in the bed, and you looked so beautiful; I couldn't wait to shag you. I've missed you desperately, you have to know that." He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, and put his head down into his hands. "I'm so very sorry, Harry. I never meant to hurt you." His shoulders sagged, and he slid his head down onto folded arms.

Harry eyed him warily. Draco had apologized before, for trivial things, but there had never been such a heartfelt tone in his voice. Of course, he had never done anything like this, but his apologies were usually light and quick. For him to give an explanation _and_ an apology, well… "I just don't understand what's going on with you right now. You aren't yourself," Harry said, slowly. "You are working more than ever. You're never here when you say you will be." He knew he sounded petty, but pushed on. "I try to understand when you have to work extra, or work late. I just want you to be honest with me." He moved to the table and put his hand on Draco's shoulder, causing him to look up at Harry. He held up his left hand, which bore a silver band with a fine line of gold down the center, and bent and placed it on Draco's left hand, which bore its mate. "You promised me, once, that you would love me and be honest with me forever, remember?" Draco nodded, miserably. "I love you forever, too." He slid his fingers through Draco's and squeezed, then sat down in the chair by Draco, still holding his hand.

Draco rubbed the ring on Harry's finger with his thumb, feeling its texture, and then raised the hand to his lips. He kissed Harry's fingers softly. "I do love you." He leaned in and kissed Harry, a soft chaste kiss. Harry nodded mutely, and buried his face in Draco's shoulder. "Forever."

.&.

Harry sighed and stretched, as Draco turned off the TV and picked up the supper things, taking them to the kitchen. He felt relaxed and warm, sitting by the fire on the sofa. Draco had gone out for takeaway Chinese food at lunch, they had eaten the leftover for supper, and Harry had not even dressed all day. They had snuggled on the sofa watching an old Muggle love story, Draco teasing Harry often about his enjoyment of them. _Draco likes them just as much but refuses to admit it. _They had not spoken about last night again, but Draco seemed determined to be loving and gentle, and had indulged Harry with dinner and movies.

Draco reappeared in front of the couch and held his hands out to Harry, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go to bed, babe." Harry looked at him suspiciously, _surely he doesn't expect…_ Draco took in the expression on Harry's face and shook his head. "To _sleep_," he said, firmly.

As they made their way upstairs to bed, Harry remembered the pink pocket mirror. "Draco, last night when I picked up your jacket, I was emptying the pockets and I found your, um…mirror in one of them. A _pink_ mirror, I might add. It was broken, and I cut my finger, see?" He held up the injured finger for inspection.

"Sophia at the office gave it to me." Draco laughed strangely, and shook his blond head. "She thinks I'm vain. Can you imagine?" He pulled a face at Harry, who rolled his eyes, and continued. "She said she thought I might need to check myself throughout the day. I forgot it was in my pocket. I must have bumped it and broken it. Sorry about your finger." He sat down on the bed and pulled Harry's hand to him, kissing said finger. "All fixed, or do you need a plaster?"

Harry laughed. "All fixed, but just how poofed _are_ you, anyway? To have a _pink_ mirror?"

Draco's gray eyes twinkled as he drew Harry into a hug. "One hundred percent bent for you."

.&.

Parvati met Harry as soon as apparated into the staff lounge Tuesday morning for his return to day shift, her blue Healer's robes swirling around her as she rushed up to him. "Harry, you have to come into Lani's room, there's someone you just have to meet." _Oh, no, I have to meet her family, _he thought. _I know they're going to be asking questions about why she's still sleeping… _She grabbed his hand and tugged, nearly dancing with excitement, causing him to just drop his jacket and keys into a chair and follow her down the hall to the doorway of the room. She stepped aside, and placed her hand on his back, urging him inside.

He approached Lani's bed, and he grinned in surprise. Lani was propped up on several pillows, a healthy pink glow in her cheeks, looking at him questioningly with clear hazel eyes. He glanced back at Parvati who was grinning from ear to ear. She was awake! _Did I know what color her eyes were?_ he thought, as he approached the bedside. He was drawn to them, mesmerized for a moment by the flecks of amber that highlighted them, and then shook himself slightly. "Welcome back, Lani. I wondered when you would decide to wake up." Her eyes clouded, she blinked and squinted slightly. Her expression was confused. _No, she looks a little disoriented is all._

"Do you know where you are, Lani?" She turned her head in his direction and nodded.

"Hospital." She replied. "St. Mungo's?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes," then looked closely at her eyes, and a realization hit him, probably because he was so dependent upon them himself. "Lani, do you usually wear glasses?"

She touched the side of her face with her fingers, and nodded. "Contact lenses, actually," she said, "but I guess they're out…"

He smiled, and went to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and found a pair of glasses inside along with some other personal items, a brush, and some socks. "Try these." She put them on and her expression cleared as she looked around the room, then back at him.

"Thanks. Who are you?" she asked, tipping her head curiously as her fingers now rolled and unrolled the blanket edge.

"I'm Harry, your physical therapist. I've been doing muscle exercises for you while you were sleeping."

"You…Harry…I know you? Your voice…you talked to me about a hippogriff…and a man named…Drake?" She shook her head, her reddish hair flipping softly, her forehead creased with a fine line under her fringe. She had twisted the blanket in her hands, and looked nervous.

He nodded, "Yes, I did," and took her hand. "It's okay to feel confused, Lani. I know how you feel. I slept for a long time once, just like you. It gets better." He smiled encouragingly.

She gripped his hand tightly, and closed her eyes briefly. "I do know you. I remember your voice. Would you sit with me, until my family comes? Talk to me? I don't care what you talk about."

"Sure I will, I'll be glad to stay." He sat down in the chair next to the bed, still holding her hand.

Lani looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She finally cleared her throat and asked, "Harry, can I ask you something?"

He nodded. "Sure. Ask me anything," he said, expecting a question about how long she had been sick.

She tilted her head again and bit her lower lip, then asked, "Are you, um…are you wearing…eyeliner?"

He burst out laughing and nodded, and she raised an eyebrow, then smiled. He shrugged, grinning, and started to talk, about anything and nothing.

.&.


	4. Chapter 3

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse (later chaps)

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them

**Chapter Three**

Harry fairly floated into the house that evening, exhausted but fulfilled after his day with Lani. She had become calmer while he talked with her, and he had treated his other patients in between spending time with her, staying later than his assigned shift to finish. When her parents arrived, she had introduced him as _my friend, Harry_. They had expressed their gratitude over and over for his care of her, for taking her care so personally. _It was as wonderful as I thought it would be_, he thought, _to make a difference to someone_. _Even someone you don't really know_. He fixed a mug of tea and took it upstairs with him, thinking about Lani as he went. He took a warm shower and pulled on a worn pair of jeans, and lay down on the bed. There was one of Draco's magazines lying on the bed stand, and he picked it up briefly, but after a paragraph or two the words blurred together. _I'm even too tired for Boys and Brooms_. He took his glasses off and put them and the book on the stand, and drifted into a nap.

He awoke to the sounds of footsteps on the stairs, and stretched lazily on the bed. He opened his eyes and saw Draco enter the bedroom, taking off his jacket and tie, looking tired. "Hi, love," he yawned. "How was it today?"

"Mmm-kay," mumbled Draco, holding his tie in his mouth as he put the jacket on a hanger, then placed the tie in the pocket before hanging it in the wardrobe. "We really got a good bit done in Father's interests today, I'm sure his associate will be pleased." He stepped over to the bed and dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead, pushing back his hair. "I've got some more to do downstairs though. Go back to sleep, it's half past eight already. You may as well not get up." Before Harry could protest, he had left the room.

_No…come back_, thought Harry, and he resignedly rose from the bed, and pulled on a t-shirt over the jeans he wore, and padded barefoot down the stairs into the kitchen. Draco had the table spread with papers and files again. He flipped between two files, comparing information, and took notes on a yellow pad with an eagle feather quill. "I'm going to put on tea, do you want a cup?" He picked up the kettle and filled it at the tap, then flicked his wand at it, heating the contents before adding hot water to the pot.

Draco shook his head. "I'm okay, thanks."

"Dinner? I could make a shepherd's pie."

"No thanks, I had a sandwich at the office."

Harry tried not to feel disappointed; shepherd's pie was one of Draco's favorite meals and he had thought he could tempt him with it. He busied himself with a mug and the milk, poured the tea and sat down at the end of the table, careful not to disturb the piles of paperwork. "My patient woke up today. Remember I told you about her? Her name is Lani. Well, I've been talking to her, you know, while I was doing her therapy. She woke up today, and remembered me talking to her, even some of the things I told her about school, and Buckbeak, and you. She thought your name was Drake, though." Harry smiled at the thought. _Drake…_

Draco sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, love. It's just not a good time right now. I really have to finish this, you know?" He stood up abruptly, dropping his quill, and moved to the kitchen window, opening it wide. "Gods, it's hot in here." He leaned against the sill and put his head outside, looking over the garden. "It's lovely out there, the lilacs smell wonderful." He breathed deeply of the cool air, and then just as suddenly he closed the window, and returned to the table. He pulled out a handkerchief and sneezed into it, once, twice, three times. "Shit. I must be getting another sinus cold. My nose always gets so dry. Maybe I'm just feverish…" He looked at Harry, taking in his confused expression. He smiled reassuringly. "I'm sorry, I'm just anxious about this," he gestured at the table. "I don't mean to be a whiner. Soon it will all be over. I'll be working just a few more late nights, and then this case will be done. Just stick with me, okay?" He sat down at the table and turned back to his pad and quill.

Harry nodded, uncertainly, and got up with his mug. "Do you have a headache? I can get you a potion…"

Draco shook his head, and waved his hand dismissively, not looking up from his papers, his foot tapping restlessly against the table leg.

"I'll be in the living room, then, if you need anything. There's probably a movie or something on." He headed in and curled up on the couch with his tea, feeling slightly disappointed. He had really wanted Draco to share his excitement about Lani. _Stop feeling sorry for yourself_, he chided himself softly, _he's working hard because he loves you_. But Draco seemed so disjointed somehow; he was not really irritable, well maybe a little…but agitated. He pulled a little blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it snugly around his feet, then picked up the remote and began the search for something decent to watch to distract himself from his thoughts.

Harry awakened later to Draco's gentle touch on his face. "Come on, sleepyhead, its nearly midnight. Let me take you to bed." Draco turned off the television and held out a hand. Harry took it, hesitantly, and allowed himself to be led upstairs.

Draco tucked him in securely and kissed him before going to shower, and returned a little while later, warm and fresh, to climb in beside him. He laid his head on Harry's shoulder comfortably. He had used a drying charm on his hair, and it was warm and soft on Harry's chest. Harry put his arm around Draco, and pulled him closer. He kissed the top of the blond head, and murmured, "I love you," into his hair. Draco mumbled something unintelligible, and Harry smiled. _How can one person love another so completely?_ They had kissed, but chastely tonight. There was no physical passion, but Harry did not think he could feel more passionate about this man if they had made love all night. _I just wish I knew what's going on with you… _He closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillows, with his fingers stroking through that soft, blond hair, and fell asleep.

.&.

"Ouch!" Harry's fingers, entangled in Draco's hair, were pulled as Draco sat up abruptly in bed. _What the…?_

"Oh, shit!" Draco exclaimed. Harry pulled his hand free and lit the lamp as Draco scrambled to his side of the bed and pulled a handkerchief from his bedside table and pressed it to his face. "I've got a nosebleed, I think." He pulled the white cloth away, and Harry saw the blossom of dark blood in the center of it. He touched his nose, and looked at the blood on his fingers. "Oh, no…I'm going to be sick…" He looked slightly pale, and swallowed, grimacing. Harry reached over and took the handkerchief, pressed it to Draco's nose, and pinched firmly, telling Draco to close his eyes.

_Sick from a little blood_, Harry thought, amused. "Tip your head forward. That way the blood won't go into your throat and make you sick to your stomach," he said, comfortingly. He placed a cool hand at the back of Draco's neck, and rubbed softly. "You're going to be okay. Just hold this here a second, while I get a towel and some ice. Pinch it, and don't look, okay?" Draco nodded, his eyes closed, and moved his hand up to hold the handkerchief to his nose. Harry got up and went swiftly down to the kitchen for a few ice cubes, and wrapped them in a kitchen towel, and then grabbed another clean one from under the sink. _Strange, a nosebleed in the middle of the night_. He returned to Draco and took the sodden handkerchief from him, replacing it with the towel. "Gosh, Draco, you're still bleeding a lot," he said, as he held the ice to Draco's forehead and the bridge of his nose. "Should I call Severus, do you think?"

Draco seemed to panic at the mention of his godfather. His eyes opened wide and he shook his head fervently. "He'll jusd worry for doe reasod," he said, his nose still pinched shut, "dode wake hib, Harry." He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and grimaced at the taste of blood on his lips.

"Okay, If you say so," said Harry, reluctantly. "Sure, I can handle this…you're going to be just fine." He took the edge of the towel and wiped Draco's lips and face where the blood had dripped. He held pressure for a few minutes, stroking Draco's hair with his other hand, soothing him. Draco was breathing raggedly through his mouth, and trembling.

"Just sit still now, I want to see if the bleeding has stopped." Draco tipped his head upright, and Harry released the pressure on the towel. He gently wiped around Draco's nose, and smiled. "I think it has, but let's keep that ice pack on for a bit, just to be sure." Draco nodded, and leaned back uncertainly as Harry propped several pillows under him, and placed the towel and ice across his face.

"I'b sorry, Harry," he whispered. "Whad rubbish."

"Don't be thick, everyone gets a nosebleed once in a while." replied Harry, grinning. "Good to see you're still human, with red blood and everything. I was beginning to think you were a working robot." He picked up the towels and the handkerchief, tossing them into the sink and running some cold water on them. He noticed a spot of blood on his own t-shirt, from where Draco had slept pillowed on his chest; he shed it and dropped it into the cold water as well. He washed his hands and wrung out a clean cloth in the cool water, and came back to gently wash Draco's bloody face, shushing him occasionally, as Draco continued to apologize. He cast a cleaning charm on the bedclothes to remove the drops of blood that had fallen there. "Just go to sleep," he said, finally, and tucked the covers in around him, kissing his forehead softly.

When sleep came for Draco, it was restless. He moaned in his sleep, moving fitfully, and Harry soothed him with his voice and hands, rubbing his back and hair, crooning soothingly into his ear. Gradually Draco relaxed, and moved closer to Harry, pillowing on his shoulder. Harry held him and lay awake for a long time, thoughts of Draco's strange behavior running relentlessly through his head.

.&.

The morning found Harry waking up alone again. He looked around the bedroom for signs of Draco, then heard the shower running and let out a relieved breath. He got up and approached the door, listening for singing; Draco often sang in the bath. He knocked softly and then opened the door, peeking his head around it. Draco was standing in the shower with his arms folded on the tile wall, leaning his head into his arms, his back to the spray. The design of the shower stall made a curtain unnecessary, with glass blocks on one side, and a curving wall to redirect the water, and Harry could see Draco look up as Harry's reflection showed in the shiny glass. His hair was dripping, his face still slightly bloody from the night before. He had shampooed his hair, but had obviously had not washed his face.

"Draco? Are you okay?" Harry asked, timidly, handing Draco a flannel. "You still have a little blood on your face."

Draco shook his head, and reached for the cloth Harry offered. "Thanks. I feel like shit." He put cleanser on the cloth and gingerly put it to his face, wincing as he washed across and under his nose. "I don't know what happened last night, but I must have slept in fifty wrong positions. I'm achy and itchy and feel like a million insects are walking on me." He stepped under the water, and rinsed his face carefully, then wriggled as if to rid himself of the 'bugs'.

Harry smiled at Draco's theatrics and rolled his eyes. "You can be such a pansy, really, Draco. Insects…I ask you."

Draco pulled a wry face, and reached for Harry's scratchy-puff thing, put some soap on it, and began scrubbing vigorously at himself. "It really itches, Harry. Maybe I got into stinging nettles or something."

Harry laughed out loud at this, the idea of Draco going anywhere undeveloped enough to have nettles was unthinkable. He discarded his robe and loungers. "Here, give me that," he said, stepping into the shower and taking the puff. "Turn around." He inspected the pale skin for a rash or bite marks, but saw nothing. "Nope, no nettle rash, love, and I don't see any kind of bites. I could give you some, though." He grinned, and moved closer, scrubbing Draco's back with firm circular motions. "How's that?"

"Mmmm…" was Draco's response, and he leaned against the wall of the shower to brace himself. "It helps some," he admitted. He moved from the wall, turned to Harry and pulled him close. He took the puff from his hand and dropped it to the floor, sliding his hands to Harry's hips and pulling him into a kiss, sliding his tongue over Harry's lips and gently parting them. Harry moaned slightly and tasted Draco's clean mouth, teasing his tongue, and placed his hand on Draco's neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss.

"I love you…" he murmured, moving his hands to cup Draco's face. He ran his hands into Draco's silky blond hair, reveling in the feel of it.

Draco pulled away slightly, and moved his lips to Harry's ear, "I love you too," he whispered, planting a tiny kiss on the lobe, before bending abruptly to scratch his knee. "Sorry, love, I've got to get ready for work. See you downstairs." He stepped out of the shower and grabbing a towel, exited the bathroom without looking back.

Harry stood still, not believing what had just happened. _Draco, a tease?_ He moaned in frustration, pressing his hand to his groin firmly for a moment, then turned the taps full to cold to try to put out the fire Draco had started.

.&.

Harry entered the kitchen buttoning his jeans as Draco was putting an empty teacup into the sink, and stepped in front of him. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "It's not like you to be a tease."

"Sorry, Harry," Draco said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have started that. I don't have time for this today." He scratched his arm absently, and Harry noticed several long red welts there. "I need to just focus and get to work…get this job done."

"But surely, it's not even the time you normally leave yet," protested Harry. "Can't we just have breakfast?"

"Harry, you have got to grow up. I'm working on building a career here, and you don't seem to consider that it could be more important in the grand scheme of things than an early morning shag. I can't believe you." He bent to tie his shoe and scratched fiercely at his ankle. "Something _must_ have bitten me…" he muttered. He shook his head and went into the downstairs bathroom, and was gone for several minutes. Harry could hear water running, and then a flush. "Look. I've got a lot on my plate right now. You have to understand if I have to devote time to things other than you right now. I understood when you were studying for your exams, and trying to work at the clinic."

"That was different." Harry tried to decide how to explain to Draco exactly how it had been different, and could not come up with a way that didn't sound childish. "Whatever. Just go to work. I'll see you at dinner. Maybe." He stepped over to the stove and put on water for tea.

"Shit." Draco's voice was suddenly stuffy. Harry turned around, and saw Draco clutching a handful of bloody tissues to his nose. "I must have a sinus cold after all." He pinched firmly with one hand, and picked up his case with the other. "I'll call you later," he said, and stepped out the front door.

_Sure, you will_, Harry thought.

.&.


	5. Chapter 4

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

**Chapter Four**

Harry came down a few minutes later, dressed in sweatpants and a red t-shirt and jacket, feeling in need of a run to clear his head. He picked up his wand and tucked it into the waistband of his gray sweatpants, and reached for his wallet but it was not on the table by his keys. He hunted for it for a few minutes before spying it way under the side table and fishing it out._ That's funny_, he thought, looking inside and seeing only his ID and Gringott's card, _I thought I had some money last night. Oh, well, maybe it fell out inside my locker at work…_ He shrugged, and thought, _no big deal,_ and stuck it in his jacket pocket with his keys.

The breeze was brisk this morning, and he took a hair tie from around his wrist and held it in his teeth as he gathered his hair back, and then pulled it together with the band. He worked through his stretches to relieve some of the tight frustration he felt, putting one foot on the porch railing, then the other, finally bending over and touching his forehead to his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs. He took off slowly, toward Hermione's, even though he knew she would be at work. The rhythmic crunch of his trainers on the gravelly path was soothing.

The trail took him past Ginny Finnegan's house, he saw her playing in the garden with two chubby red-haired children who were just learning to run. _Everyone knew Ginny would have twins,_ he thought. Their sturdy legs carried them in all directions, and Ginny looked like a child herself as she chased them in circles, her yellow skirts and red hair flying in the breeze. She paused a moment to wave merrily to Harry, and he waved back, laughing as she pulled them down into the grass for a romping embrace.

He jogged past the park in the center of the village, with its little fountain, and saw several children playing hopscotch on the sidewalk. He grinned at them and hopped through their pattern, picking up the stone marker and hopping back. He handed it to a little girl with plaits in her blonde hair, and jogged backwards a few steps, waving his thanks. They waved back, giggling at the black-haired grownup man who had jumped the hopscotch grid.

He continued toward the edge of town, prepared to pass Hermione's house and circle around toward the lake, when he saw a flash of pink in her garden. He stopped at her picket fence, and called out, "Hermione?" Her head poked back around the corner, and she smiled at him.

"Oh, you're a mess, Harry…all sweaty and gross," she teased, waving at him with her garden trowel. "I'm playing hooky, setting some new plants, want to come around for a drink? I've got lemon crush…" She walked toward him, her feet bare in the grass. He could see she still wore the gold toe ring that Ron had given her as a joke one Valentine's Day.

He shook his head, walking in a circle. "I don't want to cool off too much, I'll get a cramp," he said. "I'm just out for a run, clearing my head, I guess. I…something's really up with Draco, I think." He stopped and put his hands on his knees, bending over to catch his breath as she came over and leaned on the gate. "I was really excited last night about my patient, she finally woke up and she remembered my voice, remembered me talking to her. I tried to tell him about it, and he just blew me off. He had tons of work spread out, but I think it's more than that going on." He pushed a lock of dark hair back, and wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand, standing up again.

Hermione wiped her forehead with the back of her muddy gardening glove in the same gesture, but her hand left behind a smear of dirt. Harry smiled at that, then leaned down and briefly touched his palms on the ground. "He was really restless, said he was hot, then he was cold. He came to wake me later from the couch, and when we got to bed he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He had a horrible nosebleed in the night too."

Hermione frowned in concern, a fine line marring her muddy forehead. "A nosebleed? That's strange. Stress doesn't do that."

"Well… he said he thought he had a cold, and said he felt feverish," said Harry, thoughtfully. "I guess if your nose is that dry you could get a nosebleed, but this was a real gusher. Took a while to stop it, you know? The funny thing was, he had another this morning." Harry shook his head, slowly. "I suppose it's not that funny, really."

Hermione agreed. "He should see one of the healers in the clinic, just to make sure he's okay."

Harry considered telling her about the shower this morning, then decided that was just too embarrassing to share. Draco being a tease was definitely something she would find squicky; she had expressed early on in their relationship her support for both of them, and her desire to _never_ hear of the 'mechanics' of their interactions. Harry leaned against the gate and kissed her on the cheek. "Go plant your flowers, love. I'm sure it's just like you said, stress and maybe a cold…I worry too much." He picked a pink azalea from the bush by the fence and tucked it behind her ear. "Love you!" he called as he started to run toward the lake. She waved from the fence, but her look of concern remained.

.&.

He arrived home exhausted and sweaty, and headed straight for the shower. He remained until the hot water had gone, leaning against the tile wall and allowing the spray to needle his tired back and legs. He turned off the taps and reached for a clean towel, sighing as he saw a small heap of clothing and damp towels on the floor that he hadn't noticed earlier. _Draco has never learnt_ _what the laundry basket is for…I guess I'm the wife_. He chuckled at this thought, and wrapping his towel around his waist, bent to pick up the discarded items.

He hummed as he turned shirt sleeves right-side-out and put items in the basket. As he picked up the trousers he noticed something bulky in the pocket, and slipped his hand gingerly inside, remembering the pink mirror. _Probably keys or a pen_, he thought. His fingers closed on a smooth something, and he drew it out in his fist. He dropped the trousers in the basket, and opened his fingers, revealing a tiny crystal vial in the palm of his hand. It was tightly stoppered, but through the glass he could see that it had contained something white. He held it up and looked through its cloudy sides. _What in the name of heaven?_

_Ha_rry pulled on his bathrobe and toweled through his hair, leaving it loose, _dratted headache,_ then went down to the living room to sit in his favorite squishy armchair. He removed the vial's stopper and tried to dump it into his hand, but was not able to pour any of the contents out. He was unwilling to smell or taste the mysterious contents. He hated himself for feeling so suspicious, but thought, _I wonder if this has anything to do with how Draco has been behaving lately._

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew that there was only one person who would be able to identify the contents of the little bottle, and that person was Severus. _But, _he thought, _Severus is Draco's godfather. How can I have him do this? _He took the Floo pot down and knelt at the hearth, and thought, _This is the only way to find out what this is. If it's something bad, I need to know. If not, well, I'll say I found it on a patient, and Draco won't be suspected at all. _

He tossed a pinch of green powder into the fireplace, called out Severus' address, and waited, kneeling on the cold stone.

Severus' head appeared in the fire. "What is it, Potter? I'm extremely busy at the moment," he snapped, with his familiar sneer.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Harry apologized, feeling irritated at Snape's attitude. "I need… I mean…if you have a few minutes, I have something that I can't identify. It belongs to a patient, but they didn't want me to have it checked at the clinic, for privacy, you know. Do you think you could have a look?" He bit his lower lip, hoping that Severus would just say yes and do it quickly.

"I suppose this is a priority for you?" he asked, sarcastically. "Please, let me just drop everything." He regarded Harry's expression briefly, and then seemed to change his mind. "Oh, Merlin. Just pass it through," he sighed.

Harry picked up the fire tongs and pinched the vial tightly, then passed it through the green flame to Severus' hand. "I really appreciate this, Severus."

"Of course you do. Stay there." Severus got up with the tiny vial and moved out of sight. Harry was left looking at the end of Snape's sofa, which was starting to get a little shabby, he noticed. He shifted slightly to relieve his sore knees. Severus came back into view a few moments later with a small fireplace scoop, and passed the vial back through to Harry. He took it and the piece of parchment that was under it. "That vial has residue of a popular Muggle drug in it, called cocaine. Your patient is fond of the illicit, Potter. It is used by inhaling, and it causes a brief but extremely pleasurable high. I've listed some of its other effects on the parchment. I also put my mobile number there. Store it for next time you need me, I hate the Floo." With that, there was a small _pop_ and Severus disappeared from the flames, leaving Harry kneeling in the empty fireplace.

He turned to sit on the rough stone hearth with the vial and the parchment, and looked at the list in Severus' thin spiky writing. He was astonished to see that the symptoms included tremors, as well as agitation, nervousness, changes in sexual appetite, hallucinations, itching, and _nosebleeds_.

"Cocaine," Harry whispered, looking again at the tiny vial. "What were you thinking, Draco?"

.&.

Harry had spent the rest of the day in a state of stunned exhaustion. He had cried briefly, screamed several times, and eaten nothing. Now, physically and emotionally drained, he sat silently in the darkened kitchen with a mug of tea, waiting for Draco to get home. It had long since gone cold, but he continued to stir it anyway. He picked up the crystal vial from the kitchen table as he heard the wards drop from the door. He glanced at the clock. _Half past ten,_ he realized. Draco walked into the kitchen, lit the lamp, and put his case and keys on the sideboard, smiling when he saw Harry. "What a brilliant day! We've just about finished Father's case." He approached Harry and bent to kiss him, but Harry turned his face away. He wordlessly held the vial out to Draco in his open palm.

"Where did you get that?" Draco asked, his eyes widening slightly.

"I was picking up your trousers in the bathroom and I found this in the pocket. I had Severus check it out. He told me that it had cocaine in it."

Draco sighed, and nodded. "Yes, it did."

"Is it yours?" Draco just looked at the floor in response.

"How long have you been using this, Draco? Don't you know what this crap can do to you?" Harry threw the vial, which shattered against the kitchen door. "This shit can kill you, Draco. I thought you were smarter than this."

"It's nothing I can't handle, Harry. You don't know anything about it." Draco's eyes were steely, his jaw set in a firm line, as he added, "Just leave it."

"Leave it? LEAVE IT?" Harry was shouting now, his anger rising, dragon-hot. "Were you using it the night you woke me up and I attacked you?" Draco glared at him. "You _were_! That's why you treated me the way you did. I believed you when you said you were just randy. You were _high_. What a fucking liar you are."

_Crack! _Harry's head rocked back with the force of the blow. His glasses skittered across the kitchen floor. Draco had backhanded him, nearly knocking him over in the chair. He was on his feet instantly, his wand out, and his hand went to his face and came away bloody. "You hit me," he said, wonderingly, "you unbelievable bastard." His hand dropped to his side, holding his wand loosely. "What on earth has happened to you?"

Draco backed away toward the wall, his wand out as well. "Harry…oh, fuck. Harry, I'm…" He was shaking his head, his hair coming loose from its tie, and leaned against the wall. "I only meant to use it once. Sophia gave it to me one night when I just couldn't concentrate, couldn't keep up. I had energy enough for my project afterwards, but, as soon as it wore off, I wanted more, and finally couldn't even get up for work without it." His eyes could not meet Harry's. He looked at his hands, the right one smeared with Harry's blood, and wiped it frantically on his trousers. "I'm so sorry that I hit you. I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me." He looked up and his eyes pleaded with Harry to say something…anything.

"I do believe you," Harry said, slowly. "I just don't trust you right now." Harry found it easier not to look in Draco's direction. "I don't know why you thought you needed to start using drugs, Draco. I don't understand how it's supposed to help you. But, I do know what it does to you. It makes you lie, and steal. There was money missing from my wallet. You?" Draco nodded mutely, having the decency to flush bright pink. "It's turned you into someone else." He looked at Draco's blurred outline briefly as it slid to rest on the floor. "It's turned you into someone I don't even know." He got as far as the doorway, stopped at the threshold, and bent to pick up his glasses. _Broken…just great_, he thought, and jammed the pieces into his pocket. He raised his hand to his temple again, wiping the blood out of his eye, and wiped his hand absently on his jeans. "I love you, Draco, and if you want to quit, I'll help you. Hermione will help you. Severus will help you. But there's a fine line here that you're close to crossing." He picked up his keys and rested his head on the doorframe. "I'm really sorry, Draco, but I just can't stand to look at you right now. I'll be at Hermione's." He stepped through the door and disapparated with a small _pop_, leaving Draco sitting on the floor, sobbing.

.&.

Harry apparated directly to Hermione's front steps, and staggered, suddenly nauseated, against her front door. _I shouldn't have apparated like this_, he thought. He swiped at his face again, wiping away the mingled blood and tears. He took a deep breath, knocked at the door, and waited. He heard Hermione's voice asking who was there, and he could barely answer, "It's Harry…"

Hermione pulled the door wide and moved to catch him as he lurched, pressing him against the doorframe so he wouldn't fall. "I didn't know where else to go," he whispered.

"Oh my gosh, Harry, of course you came here. What on earth…?" She looked at the blood on his face, frowning. "You must be mad, did you apparate like that?" He nodded weakly. She pulled his arm around her shoulders and guided him into the parlor, easing him into the overstuffed chair. "You shouldn't apparate when you're hurt, Harry, you'll be sick. What happened to you? Let me get a towel." She stepped quickly toward the kitchen but Harry grabbed the sleeve of her dressing gown.

"Wait…call Severus, please. Tell him to go to our house right away." He handed Hermione his mobile phone and the scrap of parchment. "His number is on that. Tell him it's urgent…ask him _please_ to go, for Draco." She went to the kitchen, dialing, and returned with the towel and pressed it to Harry's temple, lifting his shaking hand to hold it in place.

She spoke quickly to Severus, walking back into the kitchen. He heard her voice making the request, and then more murmuring that he could not hear. She then thanked him, hung up, and returned to Harry. "He's going there straight away." She put the phone on the coffee table and knelt down in front of him. "Now tell me, what happened? Did someone attack you? A break in?"

Harry shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, peppering his lap with droplets of blood. "Draco. I found out what's going on with Draco," he said. "He's been using drugs. Cocaine at least, I'm not sure if he's doing anything else. That was all I found." Hermione gasped as Harry went on. "I had Severus to identify a vial I found in Draco's trouser pocket, and he told me that it was cocaine residue in it. I confronted Draco when he came home this evening, and he freaked out. I guess I'm not surprised," he continued, wryly, "but I sure didn't think he would hit me. He doesn't usually see the 'point' of Muggle fighting. I'm surprised he didn't hex me instead."

Harry's phone rang, and Hermione looked questioningly at Harry, "Should I get it?" He nodded, shrugging, and she picked it up and said, "Harry's phone." She listened for a moment, and her eyes widened, her mouth a surprised O. "Oh, my gosh…" she whispered, paused, and then said, nodding, "He has a nasty cut, and is bleeding a lot. He apparated here like that, he isn't feeling at all well just now." Another pause, then, "Yes, Harry told me…of course…I will. Okay, thanks so much, Severus." She folded the phone closed to lay it on the table. "He wants me to keep you here tonight, to rest. He's staying at your place with Draco, he's rather hysterical." She turned her attention to his face. "What did Draco hit you with, Harry?"

He winced as she lifted the towel to check the bleeding. "Just his backhand, but I think it was his signet ring that…" He felt, rather than saw, the trickle of blood that ran down his face, and then saw it drip thickly onto his pants leg. She pressed the cloth back, firmly, and he moaned, his hand over his mouth. She summoned a basin from the kitchen just in time for him to vomit into it. She held the towel to his face and managed to scrape his hair back out of the way, supporting his head. He vomited again, gripping the basin, and then retched several times but nothing else seemed to be in his stomach. He leaned against her weakly, gasping, as she vanished the contents and sat the bowl down on the floor. "I'm sorry…" He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and grimaced.

"Don't be an idiot. There's nothing to be sorry for. Apparition after a head bump will make you chuck up every time." she replied, lifting the towel again to examine the cut. "This is really deep, Harry. Just let me heal it. Hold still…" She stood up, pointing her wand. "I'll get some ice to take down the swelling, too."

"I don't want you to," Harry said, and she stopped, surprised. "You can heal the cut, I'm tired of bleeding, but let it bruise. I want him to see it, and feel guilty as hell." He was embarrassed at how childish it sounded, but it was how he felt. "I don't want him to be able to look at me and forget what a bloody wanker he's become." He held his broken glasses out to Hermione and asked, sheepishly, "But do you think you could heal these while you're at it?"

.&.


	6. Chapter 5

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

**Chapter Five**

Harry awoke the next morning in Hermione's spare room with a terrific headache, as though his head was full of fire, though the rest of him felt hollow and empty, exhausted from the events of the night before. He put on his glasses, mended easily by Hermione, and saw his clothes lying on a chair. Hermione had obviously given them a once-over with a cleaning charm after she had ushered him into the shower and then into bed. He looked critically in the mirror on the wall. His cheek and around his eye were bruised, and the cut at his temple was now a thin, fine line, no longer bleeding, but still very swollen. He dressed slowly, and then went through to the cheery yellow kitchen where he found Hermione sitting with the morning paper and tea. "Let me fix you a cup," she said, standing up to hug him. "Maybe some breakfast…toast?"

He shook his head. "I think I'll just go home…I need to see Draco." His lower lip trembled, and he looked away. "I need to make sure he's okay. I said terrible things." He allowed her to hug him tightly, and laid his head on her shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut to fight the tears he felt prickling behind his lids. "Thank you, Hermione. I can't tell you what this means to me, you being here for me."

She smiled at him, and touched his cheek. "You just take care of Draco, and of you. I love you, Harry." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, and then smiled again. "You call me, if you need anything, okay? Either of you. I mean it, absolutely anything." He nodded, then turned and walked out the door. When he reached the gate, he looked back at the house. Hermione was standing on the porch, wrapped in her dressing gown and hugging her arms. He lifted a hand to her, and blew a kiss. She waved back, and stood, biting her lips, to watch him walk away.

He decided to walk the distance home, allowing him time to gather his thoughts. _What am I going to say?_ he thought. _I left him last night. I was beastly, accused him of being high, and then just left him_ _when he needed me. _He wrestled with his thoughts as he approached the house, and his hands trembled as he drew his wand to drop the wards. He stepped into the empty kitchen and put his things down on the table. There was evidence of a solitary meal, a plate and fork in the sink, a glass on the table, and a box of tissues. He went through into the living room and saw Severus' cloak on the back of the squishy armchair, and his shoes neatly lined up beside it.

"Severus?" he called out, and walked through the downstairs rooms, looking for signs of someone. Finding no one, he headed up the stairs to the bedroom. He placed his hand on the knob, and then rested his head on the door. _How can I go in there and talk to him? _he wondered, desperately_. I left him alone…_ He took a deep breath and tried to summon some of that old Gryffindor courage, then turned the knob and opened the door.

Severus Snape sat in the chair at the side of the bed, and looked up, simultaneously exhausted and furious, turning his head to watch Harry come into the room. His anger seemed to lessen, however, as Harry approached slowly, and the morning light from the window fell across his pale face.

"Severus…thank you so much for coming…" Harry said, hesitantly, and held out his hand. Severus stood and took it in his own, and pulled Harry into an embrace. "I didn't know what else to do…"

"You did the right thing to call me," he replied. He put his fingers to Harry's chin, lifted and turned his face to look at the swollen bruise, and muttered an oath. "Draco did this?" Harry nodded, briefly. "Why didn't you tell me that vial belonged to Draco when you had me identify its contents?" He touched the laceration gently with his thumb and Harry winced.

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat, and replied, "I didn't think Draco would want me to tell you. He didn't want me to call you when he had a horrible nosebleed a few nights ago, he seemed afraid for you to know. When you told me what was in the vial, I figured he wouldn't want you to know that, either. I know I should have, but we've been so at odds, Draco and I, that I didn't want to give him another reason for a row." He took another deep breath to steady himself, and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Severus. I know you have Draco's best interests at heart, and that you love him like a son."

"It's all right, Pot…Harry." Severus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go sit with him a while, why don't you? I could use some coffee, if you have any in that thing you call a kitchen, and I'll bring up some ice for that eye."

Harry nodded. He approached the bed hesitantly, and then pulled the chair a little closer, and perched on the edge. He reached out and touched Draco's hand, marveling as he always did how long and fine Draco's fingers were. _Regal hands_, he thought, tracing Draco's ring with his fingers. He put his forehead down onto his own clasped hands, realizing how tired he still was. He felt Draco stir slightly, and looked up quickly, his loose hair falling into his face. He pushed it back in an annoyed gesture, meeting Draco's gaze.

Draco's gray eyes widened as he saw the ugly bruise on Harry's face. He reached over and touched him, softly. "Did I do that…to you?" he whispered. Harry closed his eyes, and nodded. Draco moaned softly, "Fuck. Harry, I'm so sorry…I know that doesn't help…oh, damn. I don't know what to say, Harry, except I'm sorry." He looked absolutely miserable and for a fleeting moment, Harry was glad. Then his heart took over, and he reached for Draco's hand. "I don't want to lose you, Harry," Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head. "You haven't…yet. But you have to stop this. You can't live this way. _I_ can't live this way. I want the _old_ you back. The you that laughs at me because I like to eat outside. The you that kisses me for no reason. The you who dances with me in the kitchen, and doesn't mind when I step on his toes. The you I fell in love with. I feel like that person has been stolen from me, and I don't know how to reach him…how to get him back."

"Harry," Draco whispered, as he lifted Harry's face, "open your eyes, look at me." Harry opened his green eyes and focused on Draco's gray ones. "I promise, I want us to be right again. I really fucked things up. I know I scared you, and I _really_ scared myself…" He shook his head. "I was out of control. I already told Uncle Sev where my stuff was, and he's gotten rid of it. I'm done, Harry. I'm done."

Severus appeared at Harry's elbow and handed him a small towel filled with ice. "Put this on your face, Potter." Harry took it without looking and pressed it to his temple. "I'll be downstairs, if you need me." Harry nodded his thanks.

He moved over and patted the bed beside him, and Harry crawled in beside him. Draco snuggled up to his back, pulling him closer, and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm done, I promise."

.&.

The next few days were peaceful, and Harry was starting to actually believe that things could get back to normal. Draco had nearly finished his part in Lucius' case, and was able to leave the project, at least temporarily, in Dean's capable hands. He took next few days off, and promised they would spend them together. He even agreed to accompany Harry to St. Mungo's on the day that Lani was to be discharged home, bringing her a bouquet of the loveliest flowers Harry had ever seen. She was delighted to meet 'Drake' and hugged him, saying she felt as if she knew him. She admonished him to take good care of _her friend, Harry_, and laughed merrily when he nodded, blushing at being hugged. "I'm sorry, Harry," he had said, on the way out of the building. "I didn't realize what your work really meant to you. I apologize for not taking it, and your feelings more seriously."

He surprised Harry day or so later with a picnic in the little park where Harry liked to run, in view of the fountain. He had packed the hamper with ham pies, chocolate mousse, and a bottle of Harry's favorite wine. He had even packed a red checked cloth for the ground, and they sat in the grass and ate everything with huge appetites, drinking the wine from plastic cups (which amused Draco to no end). They lay in companionable silence on the ground for a while, holding hands and pointing out the odd cloud shapes in the blue sky, and then got up to pack the hamper.

On the way home Harry tried to get him to come play the hopscotch grid, picking up a small stone and showing him how, but Draco drew himself up to full height indignantly. "Malfoys do NOT hop, Potter." Harry burst out laughing at this pronouncement, given with typical Malfoy grandeur. Draco did consent to push Harry on the swing however, and smiled in spite of himself at the sight of Harry leaning backward in the seat to look at him upside down, with his hair hanging down to brush on the grass, picking up leaves and twigs. Harry pulled up in the swing abruptly and jumped to the ground, landing like a wild creature, and took chase after Draco who ran for just a moment and then allowed himself to be tackled and thoroughly kissed.

Later as they walked toward their house holding hands, Draco asked thoughtfully, "Want to have Hermione and Uncle Sev tomorrow for dinner? I'd love to have them around, you know, sort of a thank you for all they've done."

"I think that would be wonderful, if you feel up to it. You know they'll want to talk about…you know, _things_." Harry said, slowly. He had carefully avoided the subject since that night, thinking that Draco would bring it up when he was ready. He stopped and set the picnic hamper down on the ground. Draco looked at him, questioningly. Harry leaned against a tree and folded his arms. "You know it won't be easy, both of them are so opinionated regarding you. They may have things to say that you don't want to hear."

Draco considered this, gnawing on his lower lip, and then nodded. "I didn't want to hear the things you and Severus said to me that night, either. But I deserved them. There was no excuse for the things I've done and said, or for hurting you, and I want to make things right. I hope they can believe that, and support me, because I don't think I can do it alone."

Harry picked up the basket and took Draco's hand. "You're not alone, love."

.&.

"Draco and I really want to thank you both for your help this week," said Harry, as he refilled wine glasses. Severus and Hermione had accepted their invitation to dinner, and having finished they were sitting in the living room enjoying another bottle of wine. "It's been a tough few days, and we couldn't have managed it without you." Draco nodded his agreement, and sat on the floor at Harry's feet, toying with the tassel on his loafer. He had not particularly enjoyed the dinner conversation, Harry had noticed, but had answered their questions honestly, and without avoiding the topics. He was taking responsibility for what he had done completely, Harry realized, with a new respect, and not trying to place blame or offer excuses.

Severus looked at the two of them critically, and then asked, "Have you made any plans for dealing with the temptations you might face at work, Draco?"

Draco nodded slowly, doodling on the carpet with his finger. "I'm not going to work with Sophia anymore, although I really want to stick around to help finish Father's case. I know it will just cause more problems in my relationship with him if I drop it now," he said, glancing at Harry. "Dean and I spoke about this and he is going to work with Sophia and I will be partnered with his assistant, Marie. She seems very nice, and seemed very understanding of the reasons for the swap. The Ministry has no objections, either. Hopefully that will eliminate most of the problem, but I know it's going to be tempting." He bit his lip, thoughtfully. "I just have to hope I can be strong enough. Harry is back on the day rotation, and he will be here with me in the evenings." Harry put a hand on his shoulder, and Draco turned his head to press his cheek against it.

"I'm surprised Sophia will be allowed to continue working," mused Hermione, sipping her wine. "I can't imagine that the Ministry would knowingly keep an employee who is using drugs."

"They don't know," said Draco.

"What? You haven't said anything?" Severus sounded astonished. "I can't believe it didn't come out when you asked for a change of assistant."

"It's not my business to tell," Draco replied, firmly. "I told her I was asking for the change, and she didn't object. I encouraged her to tell them herself, you know, to be honest. But if she doesn't care to, it's not my place to tell anyone."

"Draco, I don't mean this to sound horrible, or to offend you, but you've changed," said Hermione. "I mean, you've been my friend for a long time, but I admit that at first it was only because Harry loved you. I had agreed with Ron in the past that you were an insufferable waste. But… you supported me so completely once, and I've grown quite fond of you…it's just that I've noticed changes in you over the last two years and…well, I'm proud to know you, Draco." She chewed at her thumbnail, apparently embarrassed at what she had confessed.

Draco stood up and moved to sit beside her on the love seat. He took her hand away from her mouth, and kissed it, then pulled her into a hug. "I'm _blessed_ to know you, Hermione." They all sat in silence for a few moments, no one wanting to break this spell.

"So," Harry said finally, standing and gathering wine glasses together, "anyone for a coffee?" He stood up and took them into the kitchen, and put them into the dishwasher with the other dinner things. He readied the coffeemaker and turned it on, then reached up for mugs in the cupboard.

He was humming softly and adding soap to the dishwasher when a hand touched his arm. He jumped slightly, and turned to see Draco holding out his hand, and saying, "Dance with me." Harry smiled and raised an eyebrow. _Here? _Harry gestured at the dishes, the kitchen, with a skeptical look. "Right here," Draco said, taking Harry's wet hand and pulling him into an embrace. Harry held up a hand, _wait_, then kicked off his loafers, and wiggled his toes. Draco smiled, "My toes thank you," he said and then, placing his other hand at the small of Harry's back, turned him and began to move. Draco waved his hand casually into the air, and soft music came from nowhere. _I love wandless magic_, Harry thought, dropping his dishtowel and sliding his free hand up onto Draco's chest. He laid his forehead on Draco's shoulder. They danced around the tiny kitchen, waltzing to Draco's magical music, until Draco let go of Harry's hand and slid his hand behind Harry's shoulders, dipping him low and capturing his mouth in a sweet kiss. He stood Harry up again, laughing at his flushed, breathless face, and bowed to his partner. "Thanks," he said, softly.

Harry bit his lower lip, and then smiled shyly. "No, Draco," he replied. "Thank YOU. I've missed you." He stepped back into Draco's arms and held him close, with a desperate tightness. _How I've missed this Draco,_ he thought. "I'm glad you're back."

Soft applause brought them out of their embrace, and they turned to see Hermione and Severus standing in the kitchen doorway. Draco blushed, and waved his hand again, silencing the music. "If this was supposed to be a ball, I wish you had let me know earlier. I would have dressed more appropriately," Severus said, his eyes dancing. "And I'm sure _Ms. Granger_ would have done something with her hair…" He flinched as Hermione hit him on the arm.

"And I'm sure _Professor Snape_ would have done something with _his_," she replied, grinning.

.&.


	7. Chapter 6

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

**Chapter Six**

That Saturday morning dawned chilly and gray, and Harry groaned and turned away from the window to burrow deeper under the covers. He could tell it was dreary; his knee ached when it was damp. Draco fumbled under the quilt to pull Harry closer to him, and Harry settled into his embrace with a purr of satisfaction. He felt Draco's lips in his hair, planting kisses. A voice, "Are you okay?" Harry nodded, and opened his eyes to look at this beautiful man in his bed. Draco's eyes were worried. "I was afraid I had hurt you again," he said softly. Harry shook his head, before drifting to sleep again…

_He pulled Draco into a passionate kiss, entwining his hands in that silky blond hair. Draco responded immediately, returning the kiss, his hands roving over Harry's body. He looked into Harry's eyes, mutely asking for permission to proceed. Harry moaned softly and nodded, as Draco pulled him closer, and soon there was nothing but the two of them, completely surrounded by each other. Draco had moved his hand in the air, conjuring the music again. Just whispers, moans… "Harry…I love you…" Oil smoothed onto skin, urgent pressure, oh… They rocked gently in an undeniable rhythm, then shuddered as they climaxed together. "Harry…"_

"Harry? Are you okay?" Draco touched his face. "You were making noises. Was it a nightmare?"

Harry opened his eyes reluctantly, brought out of his dream. "Mmmm, just thinking of the lover I had last night. So lovely." He smiled softly and pressed Draco's hand to his cheek. "I just don't want to get up. The sky is so dark outside and my knee reallyhurts; let's just stay here today."

Draco took the covers and pulled them up over their heads, putting his nose tip-to-tip with Harry's. "Whatever you want, love." He kissed him softly, and then pulled him in to snuggle.

_I could stay like this forever,_ Harry thought, as he drifted to sleep again, Draco's magical music echoing in his dreams.

"Harry." _No… _"Harry, come on." _Go away, you tosser…_ "Harry! Come on…" The covers were rudely removed from his head, and he rolled over, blinking owlishly. "It's nearly noon and the sun is up. You've had enough of a lie-in." He felt Draco's hand take his, and pull him up from the warm nest of blankets. "Into the shower with you. I've made lunch downstairs."

Harry winced a bit at his knee, but allowed himself to be pushed into the shower where the water was running, already pleasantly hot, and stuck his head under the spray. "Okay, Mum…" he teased, reaching for the shampoo. He felt a sharp sting and jumped as Draco smacked his behind, and grinned. "I'll be down in a bit."

He entered the kitchen a quarter hour later, scrubbed and dressed, and swung Draco into a hug. "Harry, I'm getting water everywhere," he complained, waving a soapy sponge.

"Bugger the water.…" Draco relaxed as Harry pulled him closer for a kiss, light and teasing, and then planted another on his forehead. "Thanks for letting me sleep," he murmured into Draco's hair. "I needed it, I guess." He turned to the cupboard for plates, and said, "It's our weekend off together, what shall we do?" He set out plates and silver as Draco rinsed his hands.

"I don't care, really," replied Draco, bringing over steaming fish and chips, and serving it out. "But let's go for dinner tonight, shall we?" He sat down by Harry and picked up his fork. "Hermione told me about a nice place, just in London. I thought it might be fun to make an evening out, just us."

Harry considered, with a mouthful of fish and crispy breading, nodding. "Sounds nice," he mumbled thickly. He swallowed, and repeated, "Sorry. That sounds nice." He raised a suggestive eyebrow. "You could wear that gray jacket I like."

.&.

Draco was dozing in the chaise lounge in the tiny garden, a book on his chest, and his sunglasses askew on his face. When the sun had finally come out neither he nor Harry could think of anything they wanted to do, so they had ventured into the backyard with a book each, and a bottle, _or_ _two,_ of wine, and had spent the afternoon eating strawberries from the flowerbed, talking idly, and becoming pleasantly ripped. As Draco dozed, Harry picked tiny purple flowers from the flowerbed and stuck them into Draco's pale hair, snickering softly as he admired the effect. He twisted a loose strand idly between his fingers as he lay in the adjoining lounge.

"I can feel you sticking things in my hair, Potter," Draco drawled, feeling for his wineglass and draining it. "I'm just too lazy to care."

Harry grinned, and stood up, stretching. He picked up the empty wine bottle, and then saw the _other_ empty bottle. "How about another, _Malfoy_?" Draco just nodded, and twirled his empty glass, then flipped it upside down, dangling it by the stem. Harry tripped over Draco's shoe as he reached under his chair for the second bottle, stumbled, then continued, giggling into the house and returned with a fresh bottle of wine. "It's that merlot you like," he said, trying to pour into Draco's glass. "Hold your glass right way up, you prat." He managed to fill it and his own, then plopped down on his lounge and shut his eyes. "Lovely, this…" He felt Draco's fingers fumbling for his, and twined them into his own, rubbing Draco's ring with his thumb.

Harry's stomach rumbled sharply, and he stirred, stretching in the chair and looking at his watch. "I'm going for a shower, love, and get ready, it's half past six and our reservation is at eight. Want to come, or sleep a bit more?" Draco's mumbles and general lack of movement indicated 'more sleep' in Harry's opinion, and he stood, taking his glass, to head into the house and up the stairs. He showered leisurely, using Draco's strawberry shampoo and then proceeded to choose an outfit, knowing that Draco would probably find something else for him to change into, anyway. He looked critically into the mirror. He had shaved, and tied back his hair neatly, but the bruises were still faintly visible on his cheek and temple. He considered a glamour, and then decided, _just the eyeliner will do, Draco loves it_. The mirror, for once, offered no opinion as he outlined his green eyes. He went into the bedroom, pulled out Draco's gray jacket, fresh from the cleaners, and hung it on the wardrobe door. _He looks dead sexy in this,_ he thought, touching the lapel through the plastic wrapping.

"It's your turn," he said downstairs, nudging Draco with his foot. "I'll pick up out here."

Draco rose and shook the flowers from his hair, picked up his glass, and poured the rest of the wine into it. He handed Harry the bottle and raised his glass as he passed, copping a quick feel. "Hot eyes…and arse. See you in a bit," he smirked, and headed into the house. Harry shoved the lounge chairs under the awning, in case of rain and then picked up the empty bottle. He went into the kitchen and began to put away the abandoned lunch things. He hummed to himself, listening to Draco singing in the shower upstairs, then heard the water shut off. He started the dishwasher and wiped the counter and table. _Draco is notorious for taking ages to groom and dress, _he thought. _May as well sit a while._ He headed into the living room, sitting carefully so as not to wrinkle his shirt and be assured of having to change.

Harry woke abruptly to the sound of his mobile phone chirping. _Must have dozed off... _He pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open, recognizing Hermione's number. "Hello, Hermione."

"Harry, I've just picked up some lovely fish, wondered if you and Draco might join me for dinner?"

"Oh, thanks Hermione, but we've had fish for lunch, and we're going to try that restaurant you suggested tonight, that place in London…it sounded really nice." He glanced at his watch and started at the time. Nearly a half hour since Draco had gone upstairs. _We'll be late if he doesn't get moving…_

"Oh, yes, you'll love it, you two," she enthused. "I'll just put this in the freezer and we'll have fish another time. Enjoy your evening!" and she rang off.

.&.

_What on earth is taking Draco so long? _Harry wondered, heading up the stairs. The bedroom was dark with only a fine line of light showing under the bathroom door. From the light in the hall he could see that Draco's jacket and trousers were not on the bed. He moved to the bathroom door and knocked. "Draco?" he called, and listened for a response. The sound of running water came from inside the bathroom, so Harry called louder, "Draco, are you okay?" He gripped the doorknob and found it locked, and his stomach clenched in something like panic. "Draco, open the fucking door!" He pulled his wand, whispered, "_Alohomora",_ and the door clicked open to reveal Draco leaning on the edge of the vanity with his back to the door, water running noisily into the basin. He wore a black turtleneck and trousers; the gray blazer lay on the floor at his stocking feet.

"Draco?" he asked softly, and when Draco didn't respond he moved around to the side, his heart sinking. Draco was holding a square mirror and a small rolled paper tube, a fine line of powder on the glass, and a dab of white under his nose. He inhaled sharply and the powder was gone. He pressed his fingers to his nose, and inhaled again, his eyes closed, a strange expression marring his pale face.

Harry touched Draco's shoulder and he jumped, looking at Harry as if he hadn't heard him come in, as Harry reached past him to shut off the tap. His gray eyes widened, looking at Harry's stricken face, backing up a step. He dropped the mirror and it shattered on the tile floor into a galaxy of starry pieces. "Harry…" he whispered. He rubbed his nose again, and sniffed, hands shaking. "Harry, I …what are you doing up here?" he slurred, and staggered slightly. He wiped at his nose again, and seemed to be surprised at the bright red smear on the back of his hand.

"I live here, you git," said Harry, miserably. "Draco, what the hell are you doing?" Harry shook his head, stepping slowly through the broken glass, hearing the faint crunching sound his shoes made. "Draco, why?"

"I was just getting dressed. I was putting on the jacket…" He gestured at the blazer on the floor. "I found some…well in the pocket...and then I had…" He straightened and an exasperated expression appeared on his face. "Oh, hell…don't get your knickers in a twist, Harry. It's just a bit of posh. Nothing I can't handle."

He reached out to Harry and pulled him forward, nuzzling his jaw and then kissing him sloppily. Harry gave him a shove in the chest, staggering slightly himself. "Don't you _dare_ kiss me when you're high, you disgust me. I can't believe you would even _think_ of touching me like…like _this_." He gestured at Draco and gave him a contemptuous look. "You promised no more!"

Draco fell back against the wall and looked at Harry with a slightly surprised expression on his face, wavering on his feet, his elegant form sliding to the floor. Draco's nose was bleeding in earnest now, and Harry picked up a towel and tossed it to him. Draco picked it up, and then his hand limply dropped to the floor, unable to lift it. He whispered, "I'm…sorry, Harry," as he leaned sideways against the glass shower wall. "This doesn't feel right," he slurred.

"Oh, brilliant…it's because you're fucking high, that's why," Harry snapped, coldly. He felt himself sway, unsteady from the wine, and turning his back on Draco he placed his hands on the vanity to support himself. He could see Draco in the mirror, as he rested his forehead on the cool glass, taking in the dusting of powder on the counter and Draco's Gringott's card lying on the tile. Draco gave him a pleading look, and then his gray eyes drifted closed. "Oh, Draco, open your eyes, you fucking drama queen," he said, turning his head.

He sighed, and as he reached to turn on the tap to rinse his hands, he saw a crushed white tablet in the basin. His eyes swept over the vanity and settled on an old prescription bottle; he picked it up and read the faded label with horror…_Potter, Harry J.…Lortab 10/500…take one tablet every four hours as needed for moderate to severe pain._ Harry's stomach lurched suddenly. _I can't believe this is happening,_ he thought, and moved to Draco's side, stepping over the broken glass. "Open your eyes, Draco! Don't you _dare_ not look at me, you coward." _Damn_ _the wine. _"Draco, did you take any of these?" he asked, waving the bottle in Draco's face. _Damn my fucking pain meds._ He didn't really want to know, and Draco didn't answer.

He knelt and turning Draco's face to him, lightly slapped his cheeks. "Draco!" As he picked up the towel and wiped the blood from Draco's nose, he felt the grinding of teeth, his jaw muscles were clenched and a fine line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth… _Oh, fuck… _He dug in his pocket for his phone and frantically dialed Hermione's number as he sat on the tile floor and lifted Draco's head into his lap, _Please have your phone on…_he silently begged, tears springing into his eyes. He stroked Draco's hair back from his face, and wiped at the blood. "Baby, please open your eyes."

"Yes?" came Hermione's voice on the line.

"Hermione, I need you," Harry said, unsteadily. "Can you come?"

"Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes…oh hell, please… please can you come…Draco…he's…" _Please, please, open your eyes… _"I need you…"

"Harry! Are you at home?" He nodded, then realized she could not see him, and managed to choke out a _yes_. "Don't move. I'm coming to you right now."

The phone cut off and he heard footsteps running up the stairs and Hermione's voice calling his name. _Hermione must have apparated before she even hung up,_ he thought. Draco's hands were moving now, his eyes opened and looked around wildly, then closed again. He struggled against Harry, his muscles moving spastically. "Be still, love. I've got you," he whispered into Draco's ear. Harry could feel Draco's heart hammering in his chest as he thrashed in his arms.

Hermione burst into the bathroom with a cry of alarm, and rushed to Draco's side, her sneakers sliding in the broken glass. She helped Harry turn him to his side, wiping foam from his mouth with the towel. "I think he's having a seizure. Look at his eyes." She lifted his eyelid to check and saw mostly white, a flicker of gray. "Oh, no…" She spotted the wineglass on the vanity. "He was drinking tonight?" Harry nodded, miserably, stroking Draco's face. "And he used cocaine?"

"And these," Harry said, handing her the empty prescription bottle.

Her eyes widened. "I'm calling Severus, I can't apparate withboth of you. Don't move him, Harry." She picked up Harry's phone and found Severus' number, pressing _send_ and stepping out into the bedroom. Harry heard her speaking urgently, and with a _POP_, Severus apparated directly into the bathroom.

He took one look at Draco, and scooped him up from the floor. "Meet me at St. Mungo's," he said, tersely, and disapparated with Draco in his arms. Harry slid the rest of the way to the floor, paralyzed, unable to move or think.

Hermione knelt down beside Harry, now lying on the floor clutching the towel, and took his hand. "Are you hurt?" she asked gently, as she wiped his face with a damp flannel. He didn't respond, and she asked, more urgently, "Harry, can you hear me?" He still didn't move, continued to blankly look at the floor, covered with blood and splinters of the broken mirror. She took his face in her hands and turned it so she could look in his eyes, now ringed with smeared kohl. Harry stared through her. Hermione took a deep breath, and then slapped him across the cheek, hard. His eyes wavered, then focused on her face, mildly surprised. "Harry, we have to go to hospital. You have to stand up and come with me." She tugged his hand and he allowed himself to be drawn to his feet. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he felt the familiar squeezing sensation of side-along apparition, then opened his eyes to see the staff room at St. Mungo's and Parvati waiting for them.

.&.


	8. Chapter 7

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

**Chapter Seven**

Harry had become hysterical upon arriving at St. Mungo's and Parvati had insisted that they remain there in the staff lounge, rather than going to the waiting area. "There are other families there, and you don't need to be on display, Harry." She brought tea and a sobering potion for Harry, which she had insisted he take right away. "Healer will be in to see you. She has some questions for you. Helen Jones is on duty tonight, you know her, right?" He nodded, sitting on the bench in the corner by the lockers, hugging his knees.

Healer Jones knocked briefly at the door, and then put her head inside. "May I?" She entered the room, wearing familiar blue healer's robes, and carrying a clipboard and quill. "Harry, how lovely to see you, dear. Wish it were under better circumstances, of course." Harry nodded, and stood to take her proffered hand. "I need to ask you some questions about Draco, just so we can care for him appropriately. He's in A&E just now. Draco was drinking tonight, correct?" Harry nodded. "Can you tell me approximately how much?"

"Yes, we had three bottles of wine, from about noon until just about a half hour ago."

"That's a fair bit, then, in five hours. About evenly between you?"

Harry shook his head, glumly. "He probably had more than I did."

"Do you know how much cocaine he ingested?"

Harry shook his head, then replied, "I saw one line, I guess you would call it, on the mirror he was holding. He took that when I saw him, but then there was powder on the vanity, some on his face and hands. I don't know how much more he used."

"Any other medications, potions, or illegal drugs that he took?" Healer Jones made a few notes on her parchment and looked up at Harry.

"There was some pain medication, left over from the…when I hurt my knee. I'm not sure how many pills were left. Nothing else that I'm aware of." Hermione handed him the bottle, and he gave it to Helen, then stood twisting his hands together nervously, feeling sick to his stomach. "Is he going to…be okay?"

The young healer placed her hand on Harry's clenched ones. "I'm going to do my best to make sure of that very thing, Harry. If you think of anything else you think I should know, just tell Parvati, she knows where to find me." Harry nodded again, and moved to lean his forehead on the wall, his hands in fists at his sides. "He's strong, Harry, and you got help for him quickly, but I won't lie to you. Alcohol and cocaine are a very bad combination, and with pain medication, well…we'll do our best." She touched his arm gently.

"I know," he replied, miserably. "Thank you, ma'am… Helen. I appreciate what you're doing."

Harry sighed, and pressed his length against the stone wall, his mind a blank as Healer Jones left the room. "Fuck!" he screamed, and struck the wall with his fist, using all the strength he could muster. The pain was blinding, and he crumbled against the wall again, his hands splayed flat, his forehead pressed on the cold stone. _What now? How can this possibly get worse? _

Hermione came to his side, and looked concernedly at his hand. "Harry James Potter, you need to get a grip on yourself this instant. You aren't helping Draco or yourself in the least by behaving this way." She flicked her wand at Harry's hand, and the pain eased, then she told him firmly, "Go in and wash your face. Harry?" Her fingers were under his chin, turning him to face her. "Come on, you'll feel better." She pushed him firmly into the staff restroom and shut the door behind him.

He moved to the sinks and looked at his reflection. _You look like hell._ His hair was tangled and loose from its tie, his eyes were red and swollen, ringed with tear-smeared kohl. His shirt was splattered with blood from Draco's nosebleed, and he had shards of broken glass still on his sleeve from lying on the floor. _Real sexy, Potter, _he thought, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head. He got a towel and flannel from the shelf by the showers, and came back to the sink to wash his face. The water was cool and soothing to his puffy eyelids as he removed the eyeliner. After he had splashed his face several times he soaked the flannel again in the cold water, and washed his scraped knuckles.

A soft knock came at the door, and he opened it to see Hermione, standing there with a brush and his toothbrush and toothpaste. She shrugged, and stuck her wand in her hip pocket. "I hope you don't mind, Harry. I opened your locker. I thought you might want these." She held them out to him, along with a clean uniform top from his locker.

"Thanks," he mumbled, avoiding her searching eyes. "I'll be out in a minute, okay?" She nodded, and pulled the door closed again. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and dropped it to the floor on top of his tie. He used the flannel to wipe the back of his neck, and his chest where he could see specks of… _what? Cocaine? Broken glass? _He pulled the scrub top over his head, returned to the sink and, leaning wearily on the counter with his free hand, brushed his teeth. He spit and rinsed, and rinsed the bristles. He looked for a long moment at the yellow brush; _how can something so simple be so comforting?_ He tucked it into his scrub pocket, patting it. He dragged the brush through his hair, surveying his reflection again. _Better, I guess._

"Keep your chin up, dearie," the mirror encouraged. He nodded and smiled wryly at it.

"Thanks."

.&.

Harry stepped out of the washroom and put his things away in his locker, then sat down at the table, next to the mug of tea Hermione had fixed. He wrapped his hands around it but did not pick it up. He felt that horrible prickling sensation behind his eyelids again, and squeezed them shut, knowing he was going to cry and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. _Draco, how could you do this…to yourself…to me? _He pushed the tea away and put his head down on his folded arms. He felt Hermione sit down beside him, and place her arm around his shoulders. He felt the lump in his throat return, and shook his head desperately, _No, damn it, I am so NOT going to cry any more, _but there was no stopping the hot tears. Hermione laid her cheek against his hair, wrapping her arms tightly around him, and held him.

"It's okay, love. Just let it go…let it go. You have been so strong, let it go." She continued to hold him, stroking his hair, and not loosening her comforting grip on him until his shaking had subsided. She rubbed his back softly, and stroked back the strands of hair that had fallen into his face. She pressed her handkerchief into his hand and he wiped his face, then blew his nose, avoiding her gaze.

"Thanks." He buried his face in his hands, leaning on the polished table. "I've never cried so much in my life as I have in the last week." She put her arm around his shoulders, and leaned into him. "Thank you for being here, Hermione. I couldn't do this alone."

She opened her mouth to respond just as the door to the staff room opened and Harry looked up quickly, expecting Healer Jones. "Severus." He stood and stepped over to him. Severus pulled him quickly close, and hugged him briefly. Harry noted that Snape's eyes were reddened as well. "Have you seen Draco?"

"Not yet, I've been with the potions master, he's an old friend. He's brewing some potions for Draco. Healer Jones asked me to bring you to the ward, though. I think you can see him now."

Harry leaped to his feet, and headed for the door, with Severus on his heels. They arrived at Draco's room a moment later, and Harry stopped in the doorway. "Is he really okay?"

Severus nodded. "I don't think he's awake, but he will be fine, the Healers say. Go on, Potter." He nudged Harry who edged toward the bed.

Draco lay on the bed like a shadow, his pale face and pale hair blending with the pale linens, until he seemed nearly transparent. "Oh, Draco…" Harry whispered, moving to kneel at the bedside, taking his hand into his own and kissing the fingers.

Parvati came up behind Harry and sat in the chair by the bed. She touched him gently on the shoulder, and said, "I know this looks like a lot, but he's doing okay, Harry. We're giving him fluids by the IV; his liver and kidneys could have been affected by the combination of alcohol and cocaine so we're trying to prevent damage. He's been given some potions to counteract the pain pills. He must have taken several of them, probably about two hours ago, at least that's what it seems by the evidence that was in his stomach. That's partially why his reaction to the cocaine was so severe, he had so much other stuff on board. The tube in his nose we used to suction as much of the alcohol and medication from his stomach as we could, to prevent any more from being absorbed. Healer Jones asked for it to be left in case we need to administer any more potions before he is able to swallow. He had a breathing tube in A&E but he's breathing fine on his own now. When he wakes up he will probably have a sore throat though, and be very hoarse."

"He hates needles, and tubes," Harry said. "You'll have to take them out as soon as you can, or he'll freak."

"We will, Harry. We don't want to cause him distress more than need be." Parvati moved to the IV and checked the flow, and then wrapped a strip of gauze lightly around Draco's wrist. "This way he won't be able to see the needle," she said, kindly. "Maybe he won't be too upset, and as soon as Healer says it's okay, I'll give him something to calm him."

"Thanks, Parvati." Harry looked up at her, then laid his head back down by Draco's hand, holding it loosely in his own. He folded his legs under him on the floor, leaning against the bed, and thought, _Draco…I love you. Don't you dare leave me…_

.&.

"Harry…Harry, wake up." Harry opened his eyes and saw Hermione's blurred outline next to him. "Draco's awake, Harry. I knew you wanted to know right away."

He nodded, and sat up in bed. "Where am I?"

Hermione handed him his glasses. She looked exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes stood out in her pale face. She was still wearing the same jeans and blouse from the night before, and she had tied her long bushy hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck; some had escaped and waved about her shoulders. "In the empty ward, next to Draco's. You fell asleep at his bedside last night sitting on the floor, and Severus carried you in here. Even after the sobering potion you took, you didn't open your eyes when he moved you."

He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and rubbed his forehead, burying his face in his hands. "What a nightmare. I can't believe this. I mean, who would have believed that Draco Malfoy would do anything as stupid as using drugs?" He swiped fiercely at the tear that dared to run down his cheek. "He must have taken my meds before he showered or anything, for them to have taken effect like that. Why didn't I throw them away? I haven't taken any for over a year."

"It's going to be okay, Harry," Hermione assured him. "You can't blame yourself." She passed him a small vial of headache potion and a glass of water, which he took gratefully. "Draco is strong, and with you to support him, he can do this. He didn't sleep well, he was restless, and seemed to have nightmares. He didn't wake though. Just don't expect him to be on his best behavior right now." She moved to take the empty glass and vial from him, and yawned widely.

"How do you…were you up all night with him?"

She smiled tiredly at him, and put her hand gently on his face. "Harry, you're my best friend, but I do have a relationship with Draco as well. After Ron was…well, after he died, Draco was my only support, and he was there for me when you were unconscious for so long. Did you think I could let you or him go through this alone? I stayed with Draco, I didn't want him to wake up and be alone and afraid."

Harry's eyes filled with tears as he stood up and hugged her. He buried his face in her loose hair, and felt her arms tightening around him. His throat felt tight, and he swallowed against the lump, but couldn't help himself, and leaned against her and sobbed again. "Shhh…it's going to be okay," she murmured soothingly, stroking her hand in his hair. "It will be okay…"

.&.

The pale figure on the bed was so still that Harry paused in the doorway, watching for the rise and fall of his chest. Draco's left hand was curled into a fist on the blanket, his silver ring gleaming in the faint lamplight. The tube remained in place, taped on his nose and then to his pale cheek, with the end pinned to the shoulder of his gown. An IV dripped steadily through thin tubing, the end disappearing under thick white bandages. Parvati was adjusting the flow, and when she saw Harry, she smiled. "I'll leave you alone. Call if you need me." Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the bed.

"Draco?" he whispered, uncertainly, taking a step toward the bedside. Draco's hand tightened on the covers, and he turned his face further away from Harry. "Please, look at me," he said, as he walked forward and sat down in the chair at the bedside. "Draco? I know you're awake."

Draco took a deep sighing breath, and turned toward Harry. His face was so very pale against the whiteness of the linen. "Where am I?" His voice was soft and hoarse, and he swallowed, grimacing.

Harry took the small cup from the bedside table, and offered Draco a sip of water through the straw. "Parvati said the breathing tube you had would make your throat sore. Take a drink of this." He closed his eyes briefly, then said, "You're at St. Mungo's. Hermione and Severus came as soon as I called them for help. Severus apparated you here." He shifted in his chair, putting the cup back on the table. "I didn't know what else to do. You weren't responding to me, and you were bleeding. I think you were having a seizure, your muscles were all clenched and you were grinding your teeth." He looked at Draco. "I was so scared," he whispered. He wiped his eyes fiercely, then nearly shouted, "You could have died, taking my pain pills, and then cocaine after all the wine we had drunk. You could have fucking _died_, Draco!" He buried his head in his hands, trembling at the thought of how close Draco had come.

Draco closed his eyes and lay back on the pillow, his hands over his face. His voice was raspy, "I don't know how I screwed this up so badly…I never meant for this to happen again." He reached out his hand and touched Harry's hair. "I've been taking your leftover pain pills for a while now," he admitted. "They helped me sleep at first, then I just wanted the feeling."

"You told me before that you wanted to stop, and I want to believe you. I'm just not sure if I can." He looked up at Draco, his green eyes dark and ringed with red. "When you get out of here, you can't go back to work. I don't know if you'll even have a job." He ignored the look on Draco's face. "Severus is at our house right now, with someone from the Ministry, scouring every inch of the place for drugs. I can't believe I'm saying this…can't believe you've done this to us."

"I can't leave my job, in the middle of this case…" Draco protested.

Harry raised his eyebrows in amazement, then sat back folding his arms across his chest. "Did you hear me, Draco? The Ministry is _searching our house_, with Severus. You may not even _have_ a job. Even if you do, you're not going back. You said you wanted to quit using drugs. You weren't able to quit by continuing to work there where they kept feeding it to you, and stressing you out until you really believed you had to have it. I've already taken leave from my job. Now you will. You're going to take leave and you're going to a rehab center. There is no other option, Draco. You leave the job if you still have one, and go to rehab, or…" Harry took a deep breath. "Or I'm leaving. I can't live this way. I don't know what I would do without you, but I can't go on like this."

"Oh, gods." Draco shook his head, tears in his gray eyes. "I know it's what I need to do, Harry. I'm just…oh, hell. I'm scared to death. Severus told me I could have died, using and drinking…how close I came to dying. I just couldn't resist once it was in my hand…I'm not strong enough alone…" His voice broke, and he bit his lower lip. "I need you, Harry. Please don't leave me alone. I'll do anything you say."

"You're not alone, Draco," said Harry, "and you never have been."

.&.


	9. Epilogue

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them.

**Epilogue**

Draco remained in hospital eight days, then transferred to a Muggle rehab center in London. The wizarding treatment options were limited for Muggle drugs, and they agreed that a Muggle center would be best, but Harry found it very difficult to abide by the rehab center's rules of no contact for a whole fortnight, becoming very grumpy and unpleasant to be around. He had written Draco several letters, and ranted when Hermione took them away. "_NO_ contact, not even by post!" she reminded him firmly. "You'll distract him from what he is supposed to be doing." He had yelled and stomped, and she had taken entirely no notice.

After the second week Harry was allowed by Hermione to send off a package, via muggle post, with her homemade chocolate chip cookies and a letter of encouragement and love. He was thrilled to receive a return letter from Draco as well, but it was strange to see a letter in his elegant script with muggle stamps on it, not being delivered by his eagle owl. With trembling fingers he opened the envelope…

_ Dearest Harry,_

_ Well, here I am, in paradise._

_ The counselors say that I'm doing well, although I feel like crap._

_ I still want, everyday, but it's getting better everyday too. I miss my_

_ life, I miss you._

_ I have therapy groups about sixty times a day, and therapy alone, as_

_ well. I have one group leader who looks like Umbridge, and she's about_

_ Hagrid's size. A real charmer, to say the least. But, there are a lot_

_ of people here who are worse off than I am, who have real, physical_

_ symptoms, and they say there's hope for me, yet. _

_ Thanks for the cookies; I've shared them around and the others here_

_ seem very grateful for chocolate, I guess it's the only safe drug left._

_ (sorry, that was poor humor, I know) Frederick, my 'cellmate' here,_

_ says to tell you that you forgot to bake the file into his cookie. (That's_

_ a joke too, love)_

_ I can't believe that I am here. I can't believe that I'm alive. This seems _

_ like a nightmare. I remember things from hospital that I can't identify_

_ as truth or dreams. I remember so much blood, tubes in my throat,_

_ you screaming at me…I really fucked up. I miss you desperately, and _

_ can't wait to be able to see you, and hold you, but I know that I'm in the _

_ right place, and doing the right thing. I couldn't expect you to continue_

_ living the way I was living, and I didn't even realize that it was hell. _

_ I'm so sorry, Harry, and I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you,_

_ but I promise to spend the rest of my life trying._

_ Say hello to Hermione and Severus for me. I know they are taking _

_ care of you. They love you so. (Yes, he does so.) And thank them for_

_ me._

_ Can't wait to hold you, and kiss you properly. Only three more weeks_

_ to go. Get your lips ready, and make your eyes beautiful for me. _

_ I want to drown in them…_

_ xxxx_

_ your Draco _

_p.s. I have no idea about this Muggle postage rubbish, so I'm giving _

_ this whole thing to Fred to post. Thought you would get a laugh _

_ out of that…_

_ D._

.&.

Draco was waiting, fidgeting, on the hospital steps when Harry stepped across the street from the apparition point, and nearly knocked Harry over with the force of his running hug. "Oh, Harry…" He had taken one look at Harry's beautiful eyes, with that fine line of kohl, and kissed him breathless, right on the steps. "I thought you would never get here," he murmured, kissing Harry's neck and chin, wherever he could reach. Harry could not speak, but held him tightly and thought, _Please, please don't ever take this from me…I love this man more than anything. _

Harry looked at Draco, who was so thin and tired, but alive. These had been stressful weeks while Draco was in rehab, but he had worked very hard, and had done well. As they walked into the center so Harry could sign Draco's discharge forms, he said, "I am so proud of you, Draco. I know this hasn't been easy."

Draco's eyes were somber as he looked back at Harry. "I couldn't have done it if I hadn't known you were behind me. I thought of you everyday."

"I thought of you, too." Harry laughed softly. "Hermione was your warden, though. She wouldn't let me write to you before the fortnight was up. Actually I did write, but she took the letters, and put them up, saying you could read them later. Then when you could have post, she nagged me constantly to write, even as I was walking back from posting a letter…" He bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "Are you nervous about going home?"

"Hell, yes," Draco answered, swallowing hard. "But, let's see," he said, counting on his fingers, " I've been nearly dead, spent a week in hospital with drips up my arms, had hallucinations, seizures, practically vomited out my toenails, took endless potions to try to save my organs, not to mention my sodding _mind_, and spent five weeks in rehab with Muggle counselors that look like Umbridge." He paused, thoughtfully. "Indeed, they _act_ like Umbridge, with all the personality of the giant squid. I nearly lost the one person who ever really loved me _for me_," and at this he picked up Harry's hand and kissed his fingers, "and now I've got to face the only two people besides you that matter to me, admit that I really fucked up, apologize, and hope they will find something in my eyes that will make them believe me." He squeezed Harry's hand tightly. "After that, what could be difficult? Cheers!"

Harry finished signing the necessary forms and picked up Draco's bag, then pulled him into his arms for apparition. They appeared together at the end of the driveway, near the car, and made their way toward the porch steps where Severus and Hermione waited anxiously. Draco stopped suddenly at the bottom step, however, a stricken look on his face. "I can't do this, Harry. I've hurt them. I can't face them."

Harry dropped Draco's bag at his feet, and turned Draco to face him, pulling him close. "You _can_ do this. This is Severus, your godfather. He loves you desperately. And Hermione, she's about crazy for both of us, and would do anything for you because I love you, but also because _she_ loves you. They are your family, _our_ family. You _can_ do this."

Draco nodded, gripping Harry's waist with both hands, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. Harry rubbed his arms reassuringly, and turned Draco to direct him gently up the steps. Hermione and Severus took a nervous step forward each, and tentatively reached out for Draco, who moved into their arms and embraced them tightly. Hermione was openly crying, and Severus was blinking a little too often for Harry to believe he was not crying too. "Welcome home, honey," Hermione whispered.

"Look, umm…" Draco fumbled, stepping back from their embrace, "I want you to know that I'm clean. I've been sober for forty-two days. It's been hell, but I couldn't have done it, if not for both of you, and Harry." He bit his lower lip nervously, and a tear ran down his pale cheek. "I'm alive, and I don't think I would be if it weren't for all of you. I couldn't have done this alone, and I know I wouldn't have. I would still be using or dead. I don't know what else to say, except thank you." He took Harry's hand, and then added, "And that I'm home to stay. The _old_ me. That is…if you'll have me."

Harry replied, "Draco, we wouldn't have it any other way."

**_Fin_**


End file.
